Early Bird
by cocoalvin
Summary: Opposites attract or so they say. Our boss is incredibly attracted to his new employee, but he'd also like to wring his neck. How does this early bird catch his worm? Sequel to Insomnia. Each chapter is a 1000 word short. AU/AH Edward/Jasper
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to the sequel to_ **_Insomnia_**.

_Please **do not** read this story without reading Insomnia first; for two reasons, firstly, there are bits of Early Bird that are explained by the alternative POV, and secondly, Insomnia is a 'mystery drabble' and if you read this one first you will spoil the Insomnia's mystery. There are two ways to read: __To make it easy there is a one chapter stand-alone post, called **Insomnia - The complete story...** Or, if you missed the original daily postings, please consider reading the original 'drabble' entries, **Insomnia**, and letting me know some of your guesses as you go along._

_Beta'd by edwardsisobel and pre-read by _Elyze26 - you ladies are the best.__

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas in this piece of writing. All characters proudly borrowed from SM for the purpose of fan fiction, and here they will stay. No copyright infringement intended._

_NOTE: No more disclaimers and only minimal A/Ns until the end._

* * *

><p><em><em>Happy Birthday bornonhalloween, this is for you. ~coco<em>_

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks earlier…<em>

_Monday, 7:45 am_

Alice greets me as soon as I step from the elevator into the office. "Hi, Jazz." I hear the melodic voice I've become so familiar with before I see her, and smiling automatically I turn my head, seeking her out.

"Hi, sweetie, how was your weekend?" She's walking from the kitchen with a big vase of fresh flowers in her hands toward her desk just outside my office. She looks radiant, dressed perfectly as always, but today there is an added 'something' about her that is hard to miss. I might be gay but I've never been opposed to the female form. Alice is gorgeous; petite, but beautifully proportioned. Today, the knee-length fitted skirt she is wearing shows her shapely calves off perfectly, drawing the eye down to flirty but decidedly office-appropriate heels. No wonder half the men in the office find it hard to concentrate when she walks past. I didn't see my best friend over the weekend, and I'm anxious to hear all about what happened with her.

"Oh, Jazz, it was perfect…"

It's a very different greeting to the one I received from her my second day here:

_"Good morning, Mr. Whitlock," _

_"Mornin', Alice," I replied, smiling down at her diminutive form sitting behind her desk, "and please call me Jasper."_

_"I just don't want to be inappropriate, Sir— Jasper." Her nervous smile confirmed her discomfort, but she corrected herself anyway._

_"Well, at least call me Jasper when we're in this office. I'll understand if it makes you uncomfortable when we're in meetings with Carlisle and Esme."_

_"Okay… Jasper. I'll try to remember." Another smile and she went on to fill me in on my agenda for the day._

I smile at the memory—that certainly didn't last for long. I'm Jazz or Jazzy now, sometimes Jasper, but rarely Mr. Whitlock—only when necessity dictates it with clients and the like—not even in front of Carlisle or Esme.

With me sitting casually on the corner of her desk, we discuss the important things on my agenda for the day and then chat and laugh for a while as she fills me in briefly on her weekend date with a new mystery man I've been hearing all about but have yet to meet. I'm ecstatic for her, hoping that he will prove to be 'the one' she is so certain he's destined to be. Unfortunately, her track record with men has been less than stellar lately—a bit like mine really. It's been the topic of many wine-fueled Saturday nights we've spent together, lamenting the poor male opportunities available to us. We are quite the pair. I've come to love her so much; I'd have probably married the girl if I were straight.

The ping of the elevator signals the arrival of someone else, and I briefly consider the possibility of it being… No, that's highly unlikely at this hour; I discount the thought as quickly as it arrived. I look to Alice, silently communicating our agreement to continue our conversation later, probably over shared turkey on wheat sandwiches. It's something we try to do, and on the rare days I _am_ free, we always share our lunchtime. It's cathartic, one of the best things about working with your best friend, because Alice doesn't work for me, she works _with_ me.

"Morning, boss," Mike bellows as he walks with his usual confidence into the office and toward his desk, looking over at Alice and giving her a wink before adding in a come-on tone, "Hi, Ali."

I can't help the smile that graces my lips at his overly familiar greeting to her. Will the guy never learn? Especially considering the goo-goo eyes Jessica is always throwing his way. You'd think he'd be clue-y enough to take the hint from the pretty girl who _wants_ him, rather than make a pain-in-the-ass of himself all the time with the one that definitely doesn't. He's certainly a glutton for punishment, but knowing Alice is more than capable of dealing with Mike and will shoot him down a peg or two for continuing to persist doing something she has repeatedly asked him not to, I walk for my office, returning his salutation. "Morning, Mike. Hope you had a great weekend? Alice, when you're ready, come in and we'll go over those files."

"Sure, Jazz." Her voice follows me through the door as I close it behind me. "Now, Mike, how many times…"

Shaking my head at where I can only imagine that conversation will go, I walk straight to the corner of my office where my Nespresso machine sits waiting for me. Alice has already been in and switched it on to heat up, and I know she'll have filled the water reservoir, so all I have to do is insert a capsule, place a cup under the outlet and hit go. The aroma of the _Arpeggio _blend I have chosen for my morning pick-me-up assaults my senses, prompting me to breathe deeply as I make the most of my ritual. I'm a self-admitted coffee whore, hence the addition of the somewhat indulgent machine to my office. The company supplies perfectly acceptable coffee in the kitchen, but I prefer espresso, and considering I am very generous in offering guests to my office a coffee of their choice, I've yet to have any complaints.

Our offices are in an older style building with functioning windows rather than the ostentatious glass panels of modern multi-stories, and I push up the window behind my desk a few inches to let in some fresh air, taking a moment, cup in hand, to look out over the city and appreciate the amazing view. I've been awake for a few hours already, but I'm ready and raring to get on with my day.

I like to get to the office early. It gives me an opportunity to make a start on everything before the daily meetings begin… and before _he_ arrives.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

__.__

_You may have realised that this chapter was exactly 1000 words long. I've decided to be a glutton for punishment—at least for the short-term—and post drabble style again. These chapters will be 1000 word shorts every single time. At the moment I will promise two chapters a week, Mondays and Thursdays, which may become three if I find I can cope with it. Only time will tell._


	2. Chapter 2

_Monday, 8:15 am_

He... Him... Edward Cullen.

Sex on long, designer-clad legs.

The object of my every desire, and the bane of my existence.

I have never found myself at odds with someone the way I am with him. I want to fire him, and then I want to throw him down on the floor and have my way with him. He's an arrogant, self-righteous prick most of the time, but never have I been as attracted to someone as I am to him.

The man has me in knots.

They are knots of the best and of the worst kind. He makes me feel alive, but he frustrates the hell out of me. He doesn't even seem to know I exist. Of course he _knows _who I am, I'm his boss for God's sake, yet he rarely spares me more than an obligatory greeting or his required attention during work-related discussions. We certainly don't share the positive rapport I'm fortunate enough to have with the rest of my team, or even the one I have with the majority of people who work in the building—Carlisle included. I've always got on well with people, even as a kid. I'm the gregarious guy, with the easy smile; people love me.

But not _him_.

And not Carlisle's wife, Esme, either.

Edward has worked for Carlisle and Esme since he finished school. It's an unusual arrangement and the fodder for plenty of office gossip, because both are Edward's cousin, but from different sides of his family. Edward and Esme are very close. Their mothers are sisters and they grew up together as kids. Yes, he is also Carlisle's cousin—hence the same last name. Carlisle and Edward's fathers, the eldest and youngest siblings of their family, had fallen out many years earlier. The boys hadn't formed much of a relationship as children, and had only begun to connect again when Edward introduced the slightly older Carlisle to his future wife at a family gathering, so the rumors say. It's certainly an interesting office dynamic.

I've never been able to pinpoint exactly why Esme doesn't like me; I suppose some people just don't like others. I've always tried to be pleasant to her, but it's never made a difference. If I believed that Edward even gave me a second thought when he isn't in my presence, I could kid myself that maybe they've discussed me—I doubt it. She's the co-owner of the company and my superior, and I can't fault her professionalism toward me, but I can just tell… _You can always 'just' tell. _

Then there's Edward. If truth be known, he seems to hate me; there is definitely no love lost between us, but that doesn't stop me craving him every day. I'm not sure if he's gay, although I certainly suspect he might be—I've usually been pretty spot-on with my gaydar over the years—and Alice and I have had many discussions about the possibility. I've never seen him with a woman and I've never heard any office gossip to make me believe he's married or even has a girlfriend, but that doesn't mean anything. I have the distinct impression he's as private about his personal life as I am; maybe because of his relationship with Carlisle and Esme, or maybe even despite it.

Considering how long he's worked for the company it is strange that people know so little about him. I've been here for just over nine months, and even though I haven't made a point of advertising that I'm gay, I'm sure most people must realize it. Bumping into Tyler while I was on a date one night a few months after I started here, leaves no doubt in my mind how people know. Rumors are made very quickly in places like this. But apart from the occasional naïve remark from the likes of Mike, I've never had a problem because of it. Actually no one really seems to care less, which only seems to add to the intrigue of Edward Cullen. What is his story?

I remember back to last year's Christmas party. I'd only worked here for about six weeks when it was held in mid-December. A showy affair put on by Carlisle and Esme to thank everyone for their contributions to the company that year. I was impressed; it was hard not to be. An enormous Christmas tree had adorned the space, creating a magical atmosphere worthy of a celebration. I'd gone alone, not knowing anyone to take along with me anyway, and I'd used it as an opportunity to get to know my colleagues.

It was also the night a very tipsy Alice took me under her wing, declaring that I was her man and if anyone were going to corrupt me it would be her. I'd quietly explained that as flattered as I was, that wasn't going to happen. Her melodic giggle had surprised me. "No silly, I didn't mean like _that._" And with a pat on the shoulder she'd continued, whispering into my ear, "I know you like boys. Whaaaat I meeean..." She'd held up her tiny finger, pointing it directly at me. I'd never forget her drunken tsking. "You and I are going to be the _best _of friends." I'd never doubted her for a minute. "The bestest of friends, Jazzy." I'd also fallen just a little bit in love.

My new 'love' proceeded to introduce me to people outside our department; ones I hadn't had an opportunity to meet yet. Great people, some of whom I knew I'd one day call friends. It was two of these people, Emmett and Rosalie, who first brought _him _to my attention.

"Eddie!" Emmett yelled over my shoulder. "Come and meet the new guy."

I turned to look. _Jesus!_ How could I have missed him?

"Hello," he abruptly stated, then turned to Emmett, questioning him about Carlisle's whereabouts.

_What a rude asshole._

Carlisle transferred him to my team the following Monday morning.

* * *

><p><em><em>Wow! What an awesome response to the story. Thank you all so very much.<em>_


	3. Chapter 3

_Monday, 8:30 am_

"Stupid damned fool," Alice is muttering as she storms into my office, closing the door forcefully behind her.

I look up from the papers I'm signing and just watch her, knowing I don't really have to say a word.

"Why, Jazz? Why does he continue to persist in hitting on me? How many times do I need to ask him to stop?" I let her rant continue until she looks my way. She rolls her eyes at my shrug and continues, "I really think you need to have another word with him, Jazzy, and you need to be firmer with him. Shit, I don't know. Tell him I'm thinking of harassment charges. That might put some water on his fire."

I silently laugh as she turns her back to walk to the coffee machine, mumbling as she goes. We've been through this before. Most other weeks actually, and yes, I will speak to Mike, and my words will go in one ear and out the other. The thing is: he's harmless. He doesn't really harass Alice as much as annoy her, and she'd be the first to admit that as the truth, but that's not to say that she doesn't get mighty fired up each and every time he 'forgets' his place.

As she bends for the small bar fridge under the bench to get the milk container for her cappuccino, she asks, "You want another one?"

"No thanks, sweetie, I've already had... four," I respond sheepishly, and shrink a little bit into my seat waiting for what I know is coming.

She turns quickly and glares at me. "I will remove this machine, Jasper Whitlock." Shit, I know I'm really in trouble when she uses my 'full' name.

"Well, I've only had _one_ since I've been _here_."

"So you had three before you even left the house." She shakes her head as she chastises me. "It's not good for you, Jazzy. Would you please cut back?"

"I'll try," I concede, although we both know that it is an honest yet fruitless promise.

As she bends to return the milk to the fridge, without having made herself a drink, I interrupt, "Ali, I've already said I don't want one. Please enjoy your coffee." She doesn't look quite sure. "I honestly don't want one, that's why I said no."

She studies me for a moment. "Okay... Do you want me to take the capsules with me when I leave?"

"Ali! For God's sake."

"Okay, okay, okay."

I finish what I was doing as she gets her coffee and then organizes herself on the other side of my desk. We're both ready to go over the agenda for the meeting at the same time. It never ceases to amaze me how in sync we are—she'd be the perfect nagging wife for me, if only I could be the perfect sexually orientated husband for her.

"Okay." Alice stands, picking up her things and turning for the door, five minutes before nine. "I'll set up the boardroom for seven: you, me, Tyler, Mike, Rose, Edward and Carlisle." She opens the door and peeks out. "He's not here yet."

"Still set everything up for seven people," I say.

"Okay, will do. See you in there in a few."

I watch her walk through the doorway and lean back in my chair, stretching my long legs out in front of me, and clasp my hands behind my head. I briefly consider making myself another coffee, but decide against it. I'll make do with a cup of joe during the meeting, at least then I'll have something to calm the nerves that are already starting to tense in anticipation.

When he rushes through the door at 9:15, apologizing profusely for his tardiness, I'm cranky for two reasons: firstly, because he's disrupting yet another meeting, an important meeting that should have my absolute attention; and secondly, because no matter how annoyed I am with him as his boss, I'm even more annoyed with myself for every feeling I have toward him.

My focus is disrupted by everything about him: his look, his smell, his very presence.

When I should be listening to Mike, I'm watching his green eyes as they dart around the room, his gaze moving from one person to the next. He takes in everything, making up for each lost minute no doubt.

When I should be hanging on Carlisle's every word, I'm studying his hair. Noting with intrigue the vast range of color as each strand seems to shine under the bright halogen lights of the room as if they are spotlights pointed directly at him.

When I lift my cup it should be the heady aroma of my coffee that ignites my senses, but even that most delightful of personal indulgences pales next to the wafting scent of his aftershave—_Allure_ by Chanel, if I'm not mistaken—how ironic.

Alice coughs, a delicate but distinct sound, and I look to her, snapped out of my trance momentarily. Her stare is determined, warning me with its intensity to focus on this meeting. There is too much riding on it to allow my attention to wane.

I know this, and I fight it, rebelling against the pull he has over me.

We make it through to the end of the meeting. Carlisle seems pleased with our progress on the project, but lets me know, yet again, how important what we're working on is for the company. He moves to follow Mike and Tyler from the room, but not before shaking my hand and congratulating me on a job well done.

"Jasper, I know you've been putting in some long hours to get everything to this point. Thanks for your dedication."

"I'm enjoying the challenge, Carlisle. Thanks for entrusting me with it."

He nods and turns to leave just as Edward stands from his chair. Clasping his hand on Edward's shoulder, he squeezes gently, and they turn and walk out the door together.

* * *

><p><em><em>Thanks for reading.<em>_


	4. Chapter 4

_Monday, 11:30 am_

After far too long spent reflecting, I'm finally back into the swing of things when I hear a light tap on my door. Not really needing to look up to see who it is, but doing so out of habit, I beckon Alice in with a smile and a tilt of my head. She comes in quietly, shutting the door behind her and then sits down.

Trying to avoid what I know is inevitably coming, I immediately begin to analyze the data in front of me, pointing out all of the positive outcomes from this morning and trying to remind her of how happy Carlisle was with everything and of the progress the team is making.

"Stop," she says, her voice low but forceful. I sometimes wonder who the boss is in this relationship.

"Ali, we can discuss whatever it is you feel is important when we have lunch," I look to my watch, "in an hour's time. Right now I'm in the middle of this important—"

"Cut the crap, Jazz. You and I both know you are being less than efficient at the moment and until we _talk_, it is likely to stay that way."

"What do you want me to say, Alice?" I eyeball her defiantly, trying to garner some authority here.

"I want you to explain to me, and hopefully to yourself, exactly what went on in there this morning." I find my gaze dropping and I watch her knee bob as she slowly and rhythmically kicks her foot backward and forward as I make the most of the distraction. "Jasper!"

"Jeez, Ali." I stare at her now. Maybe I can make her cave that way.

"Don't look at me like that, Jazz." She really is a spitfire. "Do you want me to tell you what went on?"

My deep sigh is all she needs to continue.

"You were a mess."

"I most certainly was not." I reject her words immediately, but she doesn't let me get away with it.

"You most certainly were. You were distracted before he even got there, and then when he walked in the door—"

"He didn't _walk_ in the door…" I mumble, but she hears me and shakes her head, continuing on anyway.

"When he _walked_ in the door something came over you, Jazz, something I haven't seen before."

She's right; I've never reacted to him quite the way I did this morning. Everything about him affected me. The way he _strode_ into the room as if we should have been fucking happy he was there. Yes, he apologized, but it was hollow; it certainly sounded hollow to me. Words are easy, it's the sentiment behind them that takes conviction, and it was sorely lacking. I don't doubt that he wishes things were different—and I know I certainly do—but I feel as if he thinks he has a right to be late, that his _condition_ entitles him to special treatment. It certainly doesn't help that all Carlisle did was give him a big fucking grateful smile because he'd actually _made it_. How do I compete with that?

But that's only half the problem.

I feel so conflicted. I want to hate him. I want to have the conviction to stand up to him—and Carlisle and Esme—and confront him about this. It's not even that I want to confront him: I _need_ to confront him. My reticence is doing no one any favors. Not me, not him, and certainly not our team or the company—no one.

"I know Ali, I know…" I raise my eyes to meet hers and see her sympathy for the situation reflected in them. "I just don't know how to approach him. You know me, Ali. You know that this isn't me—well, not with anyone else anyway."

She doesn't speak, which is a change, but it's testament to our relationship. She knows now isn't the time for a lecture; she's here to listen and be there for me if I need her.

As I consider my words, I think about my weekend. It was rather uneventful with Alice out of the picture; my usual outlet for getting him off my chest was off doing her own thing. If I'm honest, I'll admit that he was on my mind a bit more than usual—actually _a lot_ more than usual. I went to the market on Saturday morning to do my weekly shopping and at one point was certain I saw him in the distance. I didn't approached the guy, so I'll never know if it was or not, but from that moment on I struggled to get away from the fantasy of him… of us… of possibilities. It didn't help that he'd looked particularly delicious on Friday—even if he did arrive late for that meeting as well—those long legs of his perfect in navy and gray; the images constantly fueling my thoughts.

Is that why I'm so incensed this morning?

Have I worked myself into such a state of confusion that I can't separate my fantasies with reality?

I'm a grown man and this is bullshit. I need to speak to him—as his boss, I need to speak to him. We need to get this sorted. He needs to understand that what is currently happening is not acceptable and it can't continue—regardless of the support he has from Carlisle and Esme.

And I wonder at that too. I've always believed Carlisle and Esme to be astute business managers. The success of their company surely points to the fact that they are. So even considering their relationship with him, how has this gone on? I wrack my brain at their possible motivations; it has to be more than simple family loyalty.

There's only one way to find out. I look to Alice, focusing on her again, but she's one step ahead of me.

"Just talk to him, Jas. Please talk to him," she says.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_Please remember that we haven't reached the beginning of Insomnia yet. There is no mention of these events in Insomnia. This is the Monday almost three weeks before Insomnia begins—which was a Wednesday morning. I am building up to an important event that was mentioned in Insomnia, but we're not there yet. Don't stress on it. Believe me; you'll know when we get there._


	5. Chapter 5

_Monday, 5:30 pm_

Where has the day gone? It only seems like five minutes ago that Alice was telling me I needed to speak to Edward—well reminding me really. It's not as if I didn't know it already.

I've pondered my dilemma all day. The professional side of it is relatively easy. I just need to sit down with him and lay out my expectations. I will listen to everything he has to say and try to help him meet them. He's a valuable employee. He's brilliant at what he can offer to the team, the proof of that is in everything he presents, but he needs to be more of a team player. He needs to understand that his relationship to Carlisle and Esme cannot be his crutch every time he screws up.

Now all I need to do is express all of that without letting my attraction sway me. Easier said than done.

"Knock, knock." A pretty blonde head peeks in my door. "Alice said it was okay to come straight through."

"Hi, Rose, come in." I've been expecting her so that we can discuss her current project. "Please sit."

She does and we easily cover everything that we need to. I really enjoy working with Rose and having her on my team. She is astute and dedicated: a real asset. We finish up quickly and then chat for a while.

"Em and I are going to grab a bite to eat, maybe pizza? Why don't you come with us, Jazz? We haven't had a chance to catch up in far too long." Her smile is genuine, as is her question.

I don't get to spend a lot of time with Emmett and Rose. We get on really well, but we're not what I'd label as friends—yet. I know I could be friends with them, but we haven't known each other long and we haven't spent enough time together out of the office to call ourselves that. If I go out with them tonight it will be a step to rectify that. I'm still relatively new to town and don't know too many people socially, and now that Alice is 'otherwise engaged'… Well, it would be good for me.

"That's sounds great, Rose. Thanks for the invite. Are you sure Emmett won't mind?"

"Of course he won't. He's always telling me we should get together with you, get to know you better." She has packed up her things now and moves to stand. "Should I call Alice, ask her to join us? I haven't seen her out of work in forever either."

"I know she'd love to, but she 'has plans'."

"The new guy?" Rose's brow lifts, accompanied by an intrigued grin.

"Yep." A slow nod accompanies my reply. "She should be gone by now, too. She has a date so I told her to get out of here early. I think she was in here by about seven this morning, so she has more than done her time today."

"What do you mean today, Jasper? She does too many hours here every day, a bit like her boss, don't you think."

"Who me?" I joke, but she's right, I have been letting 'the job' take over. It's far too easy to do when you don't have anything else to occupy your time.

We walk from my office together. Emmett is sitting in his second favorite spot: the edge of Edward's desk, his first of course being Rose's. They seem to be laughing over something, and I take in the expression on his face. He really is beautiful when he smiles.

Emmett says something that I don't catch, but as we move closer I hear Edward's reply, loud and clear. "I need to go home and pick him up and get him there though, and he's going to hate me for it. Sometimes I think he'd probably rather not live with me." He laughs again. I wonder who _he_ is? The man I saw on Saturday seemed to be by himself, but I'm not even sure it was Edward, so that doesn't prove anything. It's a rare moment for me to catch Edward in a personal conversation and I shouldn't be surprised that I don't have a clue what he's talking about, and I don't like it. I don't like feeling out of the loop. The irony is that if it were anyone else I wouldn't care.

They notice us moving toward them and their conversation halts. Both are still smiling as they look our way, that is, until Edward notices me.

"Jasman," Emmett bellows. How I ever allowed him to get away with calling me that I'll never know, and thankfully because he works on a different floor I don't have to hear it too often. His greeting causes Edward to glare at me.

_What the fuck!_

I'm about to respond but Rose beats me to it.

"We're going to get something to eat, Edward. You should join us." I'm not sure he realizes that I'm included as part of the 'we', but it's a moot point anyway.

"Thanks, Rose, but I can't. I have an appointment in…" he looks at his watch, then stands up abruptly, a pained look on his face. "That I'm already late for."

He pulls his suit-jacket off the back of his chair, folding it over one arm and picking up his briefcase with the other. He takes a moment to say goodbye to Rose, with a warm smile and a kiss to the cheek, and nods to Emmett, telling him he'll call later.

All I get is a glance and a muttered, "Jasper."

We watch him hurry to the open elevator and then he is gone.

_So much for our talk!_

"Pity he can't even be punctual at this end of the day," I snip, the contempt and confusion that has been simmering away all day, finally bubbling over with his dismissal of me.

Rose just shakes her head.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Monday, 9:30 pm_

We're having a great night. The pizza is delicious, the wine forthcoming, and the company entertaining.

Emmett, as always, is the life of the party. Where he gets his repertoire of jokes from is beyond me; they just keep coming—all night. If he's making them up on the fly, and it's highly likely, because I have never heard any of them before, then I'm impressed. The guy has talent, he could give Jerry Seinfeld a run for his money, and he has me in stitches continuously.

"How do you stand it?" I ask Rose, holding my side as yet another wave of laughter overcomes me.

"Oh, he's an acquired taste," she deadpans.

My wine-addled brain takes in her reaction. I'm not sure if it's because she's heard all of the jokes before, or if she just doesn't think he's funny, but I quickly realize neither is the case when he leans over and kisses her passionately, and teases, "I'm your acquired taste, baby, and don't you forget it." Her answering grin and light blush tell me all I need to know.

I'm envious of their connection. How I would love to have someone in my life that cares for me that way. I haven't been the luckiest in love, not through want of trying, but that's just how the cards fall sometimes. I'm still young so I haven't given up hope; I just wish he'd show his face sooner rather than later.

Attractions aside, I don't consider Edward a possibility. How could he be? He despises me, and even if I think he might be the hottest thing I've ever seen, I'm really no fan of his either.

And anyway, if I understood his comment from earlier, he lives with another man. I wonder who it might be: his boyfriend? A husband? Hell it might even be his best friend? I'm tempted to delve into with Rose and Emmett, but after the amount of wine I've drunk it wouldn't be the best thing. I may give away more than I learn. And that would not be good!

We say our goodbyes at about 10:30. My car is still at the office, so I hail a cab; the ride is short and I'm home by 11:00—a little bit drunk and a whole lot horny.

I ramble around my big house for a while. I feel lost. I'm too buzzed to go straight to bed, my mind far too full of thoughts and images of the one thing that has plagued it for days. I can't shut it off, as much as I'd like too.

My cat, Sebastian, finds me, greeting me with his normal figure-eight rub against my legs. I reach down and scratch his forehead; his back arches at the sensation, and then deciding he's had enough of that looks at me, assessing whether I'm worthy of more attention. I'm obviously not, because he turns and walks toward the kitchen, stopping only fleetingly to look back at me and meow. I know what he wants: dinner. Well he can wait. I often watch him, fascinated by his mannerisms, amazed by his unique aloofness. He reminds me of a certain tall, sexy man. I wonder if that is part of the appeal?

I walk to the dry-bar and pour a couple fingers of my favorite scotch. I can't remember when I became 'grown-up' enough to appreciate the Laphroaig my granddaddy loved, but I did, much to my father's disgust. He could never understand how a 'good southern boy' could drink anything other than Kentucky single malt, but this southern boy takes after his granddaddy and thinks there is nothing better.

I feel the welcome burn of the liquor as it goes down. It almost immediately begins to calm me, settling my wine-induced high. But it does nothing to calm my desire.

I consider taking my laptop up to bed—I could surely find some relief if I did that. My mind scans my collection—my rather extensive collection—Travis, Brent, Conner, Cain… Any of them would be a welcome distraction, but they are not what I want tonight—not what I need.

I take my half-drunk glass with me and walk to the sofa, sitting down and molding myself into the comfortable leather. I sit in the almost dark room, legs open and eyes closed, and allow my mind to wander. Of course it immediately goes to him—straight to him—but I'm too drunk, relaxed, horny to give a shit.

I feel myself harden and I sigh into my glass as I take another sip. My free hand leaves my side, automatically reaching to cup my erection in a move practiced more times than I could possibly count. My hips push up to meet it, my cock growing impossibly harder with each rut. _So good_. My glass now empty, I reach for the side table and place it there; the movement creates more friction and before I have even righted my body, my hand has already undone the fastener and zip on my slacks, and my ass has lifted to allow me to push the restricting fabric out of the way.

I palm myself again through the soft fabric of my briefs. It is more but still not enough. I tease the band, wondering why I bother. I should just go for the kill, but even alone the teasing is so much better. I can't hold off for long and it seems only a split-second later that my hand grips my shaft firmly, pulling and tugging along the length. Doing all the things my experience knows will get me off quickly, but in the best possible way. I am the expert—the master. And fuck if it doesn't feel good. My hips lift again as I dispose of the final barrier, my briefs, then I grip my balls. _So good. _

I allow my mind to drift once more—to him—and it is all over.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always, to everyone who is reading. Your support makes what can sometimes prove to be a stressful endeavour worth it.<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_Tuesday, 9:30 am_

This is a week filled with meetings. There's one scheduled every morning, including the one that is happening now. We try our best to plan, discuss and work at resolutions for the current project, but it's difficult with some of the most important documentation missing.

Edward is late again.

And I'm less than impressed.

Just after 10:00 am Alice pokes her head through the door. "Excuse me, Jazz. Sorry to interrupt. Do you have a moment?"

I know she wouldn't impose on the meeting unless it was important, so I nod my head to let her know I'm coming, finish what I was telling Tyler, and stand, leaving the room to meet her.

She's standing just outside the door waiting for me. Her arched brow lets me know just what this is about before she even opens her mouth.

"Esme called down a few minutes ago to tell me Edward won't be in until after midday."

"Esme?" I'm confused as to why she would be involved.

"Hmmm. She was very apologetic. Meant to let me know as soon as she arrived this morning, but she got 'involved' in a conference call and the time just 'got away'." I can't help but smile at the gentle impersonation she does of Esme's words.

"I'm still confused. Doesn't Edward normally just call you when he is running late?" If he calls at all that is.

"He does, but Esme said something about 'Jacob' having complications last night and that Edward was up all night looking after him. She was the one who told him to come in after lunch."

"Jacob?"

"I have no idea." She shrugs her shoulders. "I've never heard of anyone named Jacob before either."

I quickly explain what I heard him say yesterday to Emmett and we agree it must be whoever he lives with. Who that someone is to Edward, I truly have no idea, and I have no right to care.

Besides, I'm angry—fucking Esme. If I didn't know better I'd swear she was hell-bent on sabotaging me.

"Thanks for letting me know, Ali," I grumble

We get through the meeting by just before midday. I've spent far too much of the last hour going over in my head what I intend to say to Edward this afternoon. Enough is enough. I understand that circumstances may have precluded him from being here this morning, but why didn't he ring Alice? She would have found out if he had any files he could send electronically; it certainly would have made my job easier this morning.

Mike and Tyler have left the room when Rose comes back in. Her smile is wide when she says, "Thanks for coming out with us last night, Jazz. Em and I had a great time. We really should do it again soon."

"I'd love that, Rose. I really had fun." And I did, I had a ball. Only Alice has made me laugh that hard in a long time, and I'd really like to develop our friendship.

"Ed didn't get here again," Rose says, surprising me.

"No," I state. I can hear the frustration in my tone. "It's hard, Rose. This is really an important time for the team, and all of these delays are making it difficult." I wish I could vent to her, but I can't. I also want to ask about 'Jacob', but once again, this isn't the time or place.

My phone rings, startling me; I look at the display—it's important. "Excuse me, Rose, I need to take this."

"That's okay, we'll talk later."

I mouth "thanks" as I press the answer button, and watch her walk out the door as I begin to talk with our client. "Mr. Pearson, how are you?

Mr. Pearson needs me to meet with him urgently, and I spend the remainder of the afternoon across town with Mike. He's a douche but a great analyst, and really, a 'not too bad' guy either.

I'm surprised when I get my second invitation in as many days from him; his suggestion of beer and ribs is something I realize I'd enjoy. What else do I have to look forward to? A big empty house and a self-important cat? They can wait.

We drive back to the office. Mike needs to get his car anyway, and he suggests a bar that is close—Jake's. He tells me it has the best ribs around. I'm a hard task-master when it comes to ribs, so we'll see.

He's right, the ribs are great, and I have a fun time talking with Mike and getting to know him better. I'm not surprised though when he asks about Alice and my relationship with her.

"So, boss. I was just wondering about you and Alice. You seem to spend a lot of time with her. Is there something going on I should know about?" I just look at him. "You know, something-something." I still just stare. It must unsettle him because his following words become a ramble. "It's just that I thought you batted for the other team, well that's what Tyler said…" _I knew it!_ "…and I really like her, so if you're okay with it, I'd really like to ask her out." Here we go.

"Mike," I start. "Alice is my very dear friend, and no, we don't have something 'going on'. My sexuality is none of your business, but that's beside the point. You need to stop harassing Alice at work, or ever." He looks at the table. "You and I have talked about this before, Mike. Alice. Is. Not. Interested."

"She's just so cute. I thought we could have a chance." He looks defeated.

"Let it go, Mike." He looks up at me. "You know, I think Jessica could be interested."

He shakes his head. "Nah, she just doesn't do it for me.

"Oh."

He looks around the room, his eyes settling on a pretty brunette waitress. "But her; her I could do."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

_Wednesday, 7:30 am_

"Morning, Jazz," Alice's voice sings out. I can hear her heels clicking across the floor as she walks to her desk.

"Mornin', sweetie."

"You started early this morning," she says then quickly corrects herself. "Well early even for you it seems. You've been here a while, haven't you?" We often have conversations like this, words thrown across the empty office before anyone else gets here.

"Yeah, been here a while," I muse.

Actually I've been here since 6:00, and probably would have come in earlier if not for Sebastian—or maybe because of Sebastian. He came into my bed and woke me at around 4:00. He has a habit of bounding across my pillows, narrowly missing my head (it's actually a bit scary at times—he's not in any way 'petite'), from one bedside table to the other until I can't take it any more and get up to do 'whatever' it is he needs me to do. Even though he is always very obvious in his intent, which generally works in his favor, I do in turn 'always' try to ignore him as well. Sometimes it works and I fall back to sleep, or sometimes I just 'try' to fall back to sleep, which is what happened this morning. As I'd lay there he'd proceeded to settle on me, in the half-laze he is wont to do, his hind legs and tail still on the bed and his front legs and head on my chest—nose and chin suspiciously placed close to my own and in the perfect spot for petting. Even though I might be angry that he has woken me up—yet again—I'm usually so grateful for this modicum of attention he's giving me that I will do exactly what he wants and rub his chin or his ears until hopefully we both fall back to sleep. This morning he did; I didn't.

At 4:30 having not fallen back into dreamland, I tried to move and get up. I was stopped by one yellow eye opening and eyeballing me, and one subtle thrust of his chin to get my fingers moving. I stayed where I was.

At 5:15 my mind driving me crazy with thoughts of Edward and how I intended to 'deal' with him today, I pushed my feline friend off me and got out of bed. If a cat can pout then Sebastian did, and meowed at me, and he rolled his eyes. Truly I'm sure he did.

My 'shadow' followed me around, sitting on the floor while he watched me have a shower, then trailed after me into the dressing room, planting himself in the doorway while I dressed. When we ate breakfast I leaned against the island while I ate my bowl of cereal, and he sat next to me—yep, _on_ the island—while he ate his expensive as shit gourmet cat food. I hadn't even finished my coffee when he looked at me, licked his lips, and jumped down, exiting the house and my day through his cat door. I had served my purpose.

So here I am, sitting at my desk, my mind void of the things it _should _be thinking about, focused only on Edward.

Alice flits into my office, her sunny disposition affecting me immediately. "I _so_ need a coffee," she says as she walks straight for the machine. She pauses when she realizes it hasn't even been turned on yet and turns and looks at me. "When did you get here, Jazz?"

"About six I think?"

"And you haven't had coffee?"

"Nope." I shrug.

"You _haven't _had coffee since before six o'clock?"

I eyeball her. "No."

"What time did Sebastian wake you up, Jazz?"

Here we go… "I think it was around four."

"When did you get out of bed, Jazz?" She's such a fucking mother hen.

"Sometime after five."

"Did you sleep for that hour?"

I should just tell her to go to her desk and worry about herself, but I don't. "No."

She flicks on the coffee machine and then walks to stand behind me; her tiny but strong hands rest on my shoulders and she immediately begins to knead my tense muscles.

"You need to speak to him today."

"I know."

"You said that two days ago, Jazz."

"I know." I also know I sound like an insolent child, but this situation brings out the worst in me. "How can I speak to him when I never get a chance. He's never fucking here!"

I feel her fingers tighten on my shoulders. I know she's not offended by my language but she would definitely find it out of character for me to be swearing at work.

I hear her take in a deep breath. "I want you to promise me something."

"Hmmm?"

"At the end of today's meeting, you are going to ask him to come in here and you are going to get this over and done with."

"But—"

"No buts, Jazz. I am going to clear your schedule from ten to eleven, and you _are _going to speak with Edward today." I'm sure she knows that I raise my eyes, even though she's standing behind me. She leans down close to my ear and asks very quietly, "Okay?"

"Yes, okay."

"Good."

She makes us both a coffee and I get back to work, oddly calmed. She tends to have that effect on me.

At 8:30 there is no sign of him: we wait fifteen minutes.

At 8:15 the meeting begins.

At 9:15 we're forced to adapt our agenda because of vital missing information.

At 9:25 the door opens and he rushes in.

For the first time in months I am not distracted by his face, or his body, or his scent.

I am furious.

I can hear the venom in my voice as I say, "Well, Mr. Cullen, thank you so very much for gracing us with your presence. What excuse do you have for me today?"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_For anyone that cares, 'Sebastian' is actually modelled on my cat, Jasper, who does in fact bound over our pillows in an effort to wake us nearly every night, much to Mr cocoalvin's frustration. And yes, his name is Jasper… Funny story really. I didn't call him that, my son did, much to his immediate mortification when his mother (me) yelled, eyes wide with absolute joy, "OMG, Yes!" backed up 100% by his sister, "It's perfect, Mum," followed by the cries of, "I take it back, I take it back…" repeated over and over for the next two hours, by my son, especially when it was his turn to hold him, and he'd look into his little yellow kitten eyes and say, "I am soooo sorry, little meow (he even refused to use the name for a while), I have scarred you for life." To which I would, of course, 'crack-up' because Master cocoalvin had no idea at all of the irony of that statement. He has never, and refuses to ever, watch any of the Twilight movies or read the books, stating they are 'utter rubbish'. That debate is another story for another day…_


	9. Chapter 9

_Wednesday, 9:45 am_

As soon as the words leave my mouth I'm disgusted with myself for saying them. I have never openly chastised a colleague this way before, but I'm _so_ furious that I let my tirade continue.

"We've been waiting for you, Edward. This is the third morning in a row that we've had to reorganize our meeting to accommodate you not being here." I run my hands through my hair, trying desperately to curb my frustration.

Rose stands, the sound of her chair being pushed back redirects my attention away from Edward for a moment. "Why don't we break for five minutes, guys?" She looks to Tyler and Mike, who are sitting next to each other on the other side of the table. "Jasper, we'll be back soon." I nod my acknowledgment as I focus my attention away from Edward for a moment, allowing my heart rate to calm and my breathing to settle. "Come on guys, let's get fresh coffee. Bring your cups."

When I hear the door close, I take a deep breath and look up. What I find concerns me. Edward is staring at the floor. He looks unusually despondent and his clothes are crumpled. He doesn't even look at me when he begins to speak. "I'm sorry, Jasper, this has been a really difficult week. I've struggled to get to sleep before three or four in the morning and the alarm just isn't waking me."

My mind is racing; all of the things I'd wanted to discuss with him are swimming in my head. We need to talk about the project, we need to talk about the team and his part in it, we need to talk about priorities, we—

My thoughts are interrupted by him speaking again. "I will be here on time tomorrow. I know we have clients joining us… and I will not let you down." He looks up now and his eyes meet mine. "I promise."

I'm taken aback by the sadness I see there. The normally bright green pools I so often fantasize about are dull, lifeless even, with dark shadows that haunt me immediately. Is it only a lack of sleep that has put them there? How much I want to ask him. I have a moment of utter connection with him, that I am sure is one-sided, but still, I lose myself for a moment as I study him.

"Jasper?" I'm pulled out of whatever it is that has held me for the last few moments… or is it minutes? I really don't know. What else did he say?

"Sorry, Edward, you were saying."

"I said," I can hear his frustration—_fuck—_well that works two ways, buddy, "that I know we needed to finalize the strategy for tomorrow in this meeting, so even though I didn't intend on being late again this morning, I did utilize the time I spent awake last night polishing the presentation, as much as I could do anyway, so when everyone comes back in maybe we could go over it then?

Even though we are alone, now isn't the time for the extended talk we need to have so I nod my head and agree. "Okay, sounds good." He breathes a deep sigh of relief that I don't miss. I know Alice has cleared my schedule from ten until eleven, but it's already nearly ten now and this is going to take a while, besides I'm not sure today would be the best day for our 'talk' or whether we'll get a chance today, anyway. We'll see.

"I'm counting on you to be here on time tomorrow, Edward. We can't lose these clients."

"I know. I'll be here." His smile is resigned. "If I find myself awake late again, I'll come in and sleep on the couch in Esme's office." My stunned expression makes him chuckle. "Maybe Alice should check in there at about eight-thirty." For a brief moment I see that fire alight within him—the one from my dreams.

"I'll send her in then." I play along.

There's a light rap on the door and then it opens. Mike and Tyler come back in and take their seats. Rose follows, carrying a tray with two extra cups. She hands one to Edward and then one to me. As soon as I look I can see that she's been to Alice, because the thick crema of an espresso nestles temptingly in my cup. I mouth 'thanks' and she smiles then sits down next to me.

"Edward worked on the presentation last night," I start, ignoring the raised brows of Mike and Tyler, "and he'll be going over it with us now. Keep in mind everything we've already discussed this morning and make notes. Please let him finish a first run-through and then we'll make adjustments as needed." Everyone acknowledges me and Edward starts.

His expertise shines as he speaks. There is no doubt about his value as a team member, but if we can't get a handle on the hours he spends 'physically' in the office then we are going to continue to struggle.

I make a decision as we sit there though. I won't speak to him today; I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he repays me by getting here on time in the morning. Am I just avoiding? Maybe? But I just feel in my gut that it wouldn't go well. Something is going on with him and I doubt very much I am the one that he needs to speak to about it. I'll give him a few days to get himself together and then we'll have a 'chat' toward the end of the week. I have a brief moment where I wonder who this 'delay' will benefit—me or him? Maybe neither of us?

_Thursday, 9:00 am_

"Good morning, gentlemen." I look directly at the three men sitting across from me. "Let's get started shall we? Edward, when you're ready…"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	10. Chapter 10

_Wednesday, 10:30 am (post-meeting the following week)_

"How'd it go?" Alice asks as I walk past her.

"Okay."

"Humph." I hear and then the sound of her pushing her chair out before her heels start their metronomic rhythm across the floor behind me.

I open the door and hold it for her as she precedes me into my office, the subtle perfume she wears wafting behind her as I follow.

"What do you mean 'okay'? If you think I'm going to let you get away with that then you're mistaken, mister."

"I mean okay, Ali. It was _okay_. There's nothing more to say." I make my way immediately to 'my corner of sanity' and start preparing an espresso. "Want one?"

"No! I mean yes… I suppose." I can sense her frustration, but playing with her is the most fun I've had in weeks. I'm in a good mood and intend staying that way. "But he wasn't there, Jazz. He didn't turn up."

"He was. He was sitting in his seat when I walked in." The coffees made, I turn and carry them toward her, handing her the cappuccino and taking the espresso to my chair with me.

"I set the room up, Jazz, and then I was at my desk until you went in. He most definitely wasn't there." She sips her drink as she thinks—it's very cute.

"He most definitely _was_… And looking mighty fine as well, I might add," I whisper, raising my brow cheekily. "Very, very fine."

"You are incorrigible." She is still trying to work out the puzzle that is Edward's attendance in the meeting. I let her stew for a moment while I sip on my hot brew, but decide quickly to put her out of her misery.

"He came in through Esme's door," I admit.

I can see the instant light bulb moment she has, but it isn't enough for her.

"When… What time?"

"He was there when I walked in." And he was; his prepared notes and data laid out in front of him.

"Sneaky devil," she mumbles, and I must admit I agree with her. I'd known he wasn't there only minutes before when Alice had left the room because she'd told me so.

"I asked him."

"What do you mean you asked him?"

"Well, I told him he wasn't there minutes before and asked him how in the hell he managed to get past you."

"I do generally see _everything._" And she does… It's weird.

"Well you didn't today, sweetie. He fooled you."

Not that I think it was intentional. He'd just come straight from the upstairs offices so he came in the other door. And it's all irrelevant anyway. He was here, and on time, and he has been, nearly every day; even the odd five minutes here and there haven't bothered me. It's obvious he is making an effort and I can't ask for more than that.

"You still need to sit down and talk to him, Jazz." She looks at me intently. "Why haven't you?"

I've been wondering when this question would be asked of me, and I've also been psyching myself up—every day—on how I'm going to answer it.

"Can I plead the fifth?" I ask contritely.

"No!"

I'm sure I grumble under my breath at her determination.

"Can I say I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie?"

"Are you serious?" She takes a long sip of her coffee as she eyeballs me.

"Sort of…" I'm not going to get a way with it today. I take a resigned sigh and start, "Alice, something happened in that meeting last week. I'm not even sure it had anything to do with my 'little outburst', but he seemed 'broken'. Maybe that's extreme, but he did. I know I should talk to him—I _need_ to talk to him—and if it was anyone else I would have months ago, but I can't bring myself to do it, not yet anyway. I just want to give him another chance, a bit more time."

"Jazz, he's had periods before when he's managed to be punctual for a few weeks, but it doesn't last. You know that."

"I know. And I know it's not just his punctuality we need to talk about. We need to talk about a lot of things: Esme for one."

Putting her empty cup on my desk, she crosses her legs and begins to kick her foot. It makes me smile—I love her tells.

"Okay… So he's been getting here on time, mostly, which is great, let's hope it lasts, but how has he been toward you?"

"No change." I can't help my sad smile. I had hoped that my acquiescence would warm him to me a bit. Not because I want it to be a step forward in some sort of relationship we could have, not in a personal sense anyway, but definitely professionally. It would make life so much easier. "He says what he has to say and nothing else. I realize I've said this before, but I don't really know what I've ever done to him to cause such a reaction. I've no idea why he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you, Jazz, he's just indifferent. And I've told you this before, but it's not just you, he's like that with most people. The only reason he's friends with Rose and Em is because Emmett wouldn't take no for an answer when he first started working here—he's rather persuasive, as you know—and Rose is part of that package. And I get on _okay_ with him because he has to deal with me, and I won't allow his surly rubbish to fly. Believe me, I've picked him up on it a few times."

"I know."

"All I can say is that I'm so happy I don't have issues sleeping. It certainly messes with you."

_Yeah, nearly as much as he messes with me_, I think. I wish I could control that.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	11. Chapter 11

_Saturday, 8:30 pm_

"I cannot believe you just did that, you nasty thing!"

Alice and Sebastian are eyeballing each other. Before I left the room, I would've said I didn't know who was winning this particular battle, but that dilemma has just been solved. Sebastian is… and quite comfortably by the sound of Alice's exclamation.

"What did he do?" I ask, even though I know exactly what he did. I've just brought fresh margaritas into the room and missed the showdown.

"He bit me!"

I laugh, loudly. "Yep, he does that."

"I know." She's still scowling at the cat—a very self-assured cat too, by the look of him.

"Yes, of course you know. He bites you all the time, but still you continue to mess with him." She looks at _me_ now, her eyes narrow and she just stares. "Don't look at me like that, missy. Stop irritating the cat and he'll stop biting you."

"But I just wanted to give him a cuddle and pet him."

I sigh, exasperated. We have this same conversation every time she visits. "Ali, he'll come to _you_ if he wants you to pet him."

"But he never comes—"

I interrupt. "That's because you annoy him, Ali. Leave him alone and he will come to you… Maybe?" The last bit is muttered under my breath.

I hand her a drink and sit down beside her, nudging Sebastian out of the way with my hip as I do.

He growls, this time at me. Alice laughs—loud.

"He's a nasty cat, Jazz," she leans down and stares at him again, "_nasty_."

"No he's not, Ali, he's just a cat, a very pissed off cat." And he is, his tail is flicking, an accompaniment to his scowl.

Sebastian seems to have had his say, because he settles down next to me, crossing his front paws and closing his eyes. It's typical of him; he likes to be close, but he doesn't like to be mauled. I know his ways and accept them; we work well together—most of the time.

Three _very strong _margaritas later and Ali and I are in fine form. We're laughing and gossiping about everyone and everything. Her 'man' is at a buck's party, and it has given us the perfect opportunity to catch up. Something we haven't had a chance to do for weeks. It's different when we get together at my house or hers than at work, because we're free to say whatever we want, and we do. Our cocktail of choice is a wonderful loosener of inhibitions.

"Soooo… you still haven't talked with him, Jazzy…" Oh, shit, she's calling me Jazzy; here we go.

"Who?" I can't help myself.

"Don't be coy with me, you gorgeous man." She winks at me and I crack up, causing her to follow suit and we end up huddled together, nearly spilling our drinks, as we laugh.

"Oh, sweetie, you're nothing if not good for my ego."

"I love you, Jazzy, and I just hate what this is doing to you." She pouts the most pathetic sad face at me, but all it does is start my laughter rolling again. Which in turn sets her off again, and this ridiculous cycles goes on for what seems forever in my intoxicated mind. It's only when I go to lift my glass and find it's empty—_I'm sure it was full only a moment ago_—that I realize how long we must have been laughing for. I'm actually panting and have tears running down my cheeks, but I feel great. This is what she does to me. She is my best medicine.

The laughing stops as abruptly as it started and we sit there quietly for a while as our breathing and giggles subside. I feel Sebastian next to me shift positions and look to find him in some twisted stretched out back thing. He is such a funny creature. I rub his snow-white tummy and stand.

"More…" I hold out my glass, "or coffee?" I blink a few times; she's not quite in focus.

She stands up next to me. "C'mon, I'll walk with you to the kitchen and decide on the way. Maybe twenty glasses of water first would be a good idea."

"Maybe?" I take her hand and off we go.

Three glasses of water each later, I'm tamping coffee into the portafilter of the espresso machine and Alice is sitting on the island behind me.

"Why don't you ask him out?"

Her words surprise the hell out of me. That is certainly a different course of action than a 'work talk'.

"You mean like as in a date?" The coffee forgotten, I've turned and am facing her now.

"Sure do."

"He'd laugh in my face."

"He might surprise you."

"Why would you even think that? He loathes me, Ali."

She is shaking her head slowly. "I've told you before that I don't believe he does."

"And I disagree. Besides you're not on the receiving end of his _stares._ I am and they are intense." And they are, a bit scary really at times.

"Maybe he's staring 'cause he thinks you're _hawt_?"

And the giggles start again.

"I'm sure his boyfriend, partner, whatever the fuck his is, would disagree too." I give a little preening shake of my shoulders. "Anyway, I'm better than _hawt_, I'm _smokin' hawt. _ He'd be mad not to want me and damned lucky to have me."

"Yes. He. Would!" I lean over and kiss her on the lips. She's my personal cheer team. "But I'm gonna say it again, Jazz. You don't know _who_ or _what_ 'Jacob' is. Don't assume he's anything until you know for sure."

I think I roll my eyes.

"You know what assuming does. It makes an ASS of U and ME."

"Well I wouldn't mind him making my ass."

"Jasper! Eww…" She's shaking her head and doing some closed-eye weird cringey thing. "TMI… TMI…"

"Yeah right!" I definitely roll my eyes.

.

_Thanks for reading. _


	12. Chapter 12

_Monday, 8:30 am_

I've been here since 7:00.

It's been quiet here this morning, which has been great for getting a few things done, and great for my headache.

Why I still have a splitting headache on Monday morning is beyond me. I usually get over my Alice and margarita hangovers easily with a couple strong coffees and some greasy bacon, but here I am on _Monday, _still battling it. I wonder though, how much of it has to do with the alcohol and how much of it has to do with Alice's suggestion that I ask Edward out. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it or the possibility that she's right about him 'not' hating me.

I've questioned her about her change in attitude and she assures me she's always felt that way—to a point—even though we've bitched incessantly about him and Esme, but that recently it's just some sixth sense that there's the possibility of something more. I don't really understand what 'something more' means and she says she doesn't really understand it herself, but that's the sense she gets.

I've learned in the past, _never_ to bet against Alice.

The day moves forward, busy as usual, with meeting after meeting. I meet with individual team members, with Carlisle, and also with Mr. Pearson.

It's a productive day.

It's close to 5:00 when I look up from some documents I'm signing and see Edward just lifting his arm to knock on my door.

I smile and invite him in.

"Thanks. Sorry to interrupt, I just need your okay on these changes I have made."

He hasn't moved from the doorway and I'm not sure why. He's not really looking at me either.

"Sure, Edward, come and sit down. Do you mind if I just sign these few pages first so Alice can mail them before she leaves and then I'm all yours."

"Okay."

I watch him walk across the room. I can do this quite blatantly because he is looking at the floor. It's only as he reaches the chair that his eyes meet mine, but it's fleeting, a mere millisecond, and then he stares off at the window behind me. _What the fuck? _I finish signing the papers and slide them to the side, then push the connection for Alice's intercom and tell her they're ready. "Sure, Jazz," I hear back and only moments later she is lifting them off my desk. I watch her look from him to me, a questioning look in her eyes, and shrug; I really have no fucking idea what is going on with him.

As soon as the door closes behind her I ask him to show me the changes he's made. Our discussion is brief, to the point, and incredibly tense.

I really thought we'd made headway over the last week and a half, but obviously not. I've never bet against Alice before, but there's always a first time for everything—she is _way _off base.

He hates me and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.

_Wednesday, 8:30 am_

We're back to 9:00 am meetings on a Wednesday now. And I'm thankful of that because if we'd needed to get started by now, then he'd be late again.

I've had a day and two nights to ponder my discoveries from Monday afternoon and they haven't created any sense of calm for me. If anything they have riled me up more. I don't deserve this shit from him and I've had enough. The fact that he was half an hour late to work yesterday hasn't helped the situation either.

I'm a simmering pool of anger ready to explode, and I've decided to talk with him _today_ before I do.

The next half hour is filled with emails, phone calls, and watching the clock: he still hasn't arrived

At 9:00 we make a start. It is only Rose, Mike, Tyler and me.

At 10:00 my blood is boiling.

At 10:15 I dismiss the team and stand up. My mind is focused on one thing: phoning his house to find out where the fuck he is, and then going to see Esme and getting this shit sorted out.

"Jasper, I can tell you are really angry and I think I know why."

I am surprised to find her still in the room with me.

"I'm damned angry, Rose. This is beyond a joke. It's unprofessional and—"

"It's not my place to defend anyone's actions but he has really been having a hard time lately. He's not sleeping and—"

"That may be the case, Rose, but _he_ needs to tell me that not you."

I sense movement at the door and look toward it; I am surprised to see Edward.

"So look who has graced us with his presence." I can hear the anger in my voice and I have no doubt that the glare I project his way lets him know _exactly_ how pissed I am. I'm on a roll though so I continue, "So very nice of you to join us." I turn to Rose. "Would you excuse us please, Miss Hale, we," I look back to him, "need to speak privately." As I sense her walk away I add, "Close the door behind you, please."

My eyes haven't left his and I nearly fall over when he takes a few steps, pulls out a chair, and sits down.

The change in his demeanor from Monday is phenomenal. It's a complete one-eighty. He's like a different person. He has held my stare since he walked in the door, there's no contrition about him this morning—it's as if he's challenging me.

When his hand moves and he holds up a stack of paper that I hadn't even realized he had with him and he basically waves them in my face, I'm at a loss for words, and I just and lean back against the table behind me and sigh.

_Fucking self-righteous prick!_

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_And, yep, we've reached Insomnia—Chapter 6 to be exact. Now the fun really begins._


	13. Chapter 13

_Wednesday, 10:20 am_

The words of war swimming in my head—the one's that have been building inside me for weeks—evaporate in an instant. I will get nowhere with him by ranting, and it's not my style anyway. I have never been one to scream and abuse and I'm not going to do it now. I need to just bite the bullet and discuss this with him, and now is definitely the time. We can't keep avoiding the subject, and by the look of him, he's as resigned to this discussion as I am.

I take a closer look at the papers in his hand, realizing it's the final mark-ups for the presentation we have due for Mr. Pearson next week. Edward is as brilliant as he is gorgeous; I've never debated the fact. The work he produces for me is phenomenal, but that isn't the point.

"You don't need to remind me that the work has been done, I know it has," I gesture to the papers in his hand, "but that's not the issue here and you know it. We've just spent an hour of each one of those people's time discussing your project—without you."

He doesn't say anything, just breathes in a deep sigh. It seems there's a lot of that going on here this morning.

I continue, trying to understand more about why this happens to him. "Why don't you set an alarm?" I know it's a stupid question but I feel it's as good a point as any to start at.

I can hear the resigned tone in his voice when he answers, "I do."

"I don't understand." I have never had a problem with sleeping or waking up in the morning so I honestly don't.

"Nor do I." He really doesn't; I can tell that from his eyes and the dejected little shake he gives his head. I understand very quickly that he really has little control over this, but it doesn't solve the problem at hand. As much as I feel sorry for his situation, my main priority and the only one I can base this discussion on is my team and how he performs as a part of it.

I look into his eyes, focusing all of my attention on him. "I'm not sure how much longer I can carry you on this."

I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but the deep defeated sigh he lets out isn't it.

"Surely we can change the meeting time." I don't like the tone that Edward's 'suggestion' was just cased in—it would ordinarily make me bite—but I do see merit in his idea. "Or you can be more forgiving if I'm a few minutes late."

_What? _

"But you weren't a _few _minutes late." It's fucking nearly ten-thirty. I tap my finger at the watch on my wrist trying to point that out.

"It was only a few minutes when I got here." He's staring at me—determined. "Three to be exact."

Now I'm really confused. "So why are we having this conversation now. Why in the hell didn't you come into the meeting?" He just stares at me, so I ask, "So?"

"Are you kidding me?"

He watches me, daring me to bite. Is he referring to what happened in this very room two weeks ago? Maybe he is? He probably is, but I'll be damned if I'm going to bow down to him on this. "Am I kidding you?" Two can play at this game. "As you are well aware, I rarely joke." Well at least not to you.

"Isn't that the truth," he mumbles.

I want to say, "Fuck you," but I hold my tongue. I'd hoped that we were making progress not five minutes ago, but now this is going nowhere fast.

"Look, Car—"

I'm not sure what he was going to say, although I imagine it has something to do with having Carlisle's and Esme's support. I know without a doubt he has Esme's, but I hope Carlisle will be a bit more professional when it all comes down to it.

Maybe if I requested he transfer back to his old team? I'd miss his expertise, but definitely not all the other shit that goes with it.

I pull out my chair and sit down, surprised when I hear. "Why won't you work with me on this?"

Because I'm sitting opposite him, it's easy to watch his reaction when I say, "You think I'm being difficult?"

"Yes. Extremely." Interesting, but I'm not surprised.

"Because I expect punctuality from my staff?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Because you know the circumstances here and refuse to accommodate them."

I definitely don't know the circumstances here, if I did I'd be in a better position to deal with this. When it all boils down to it, his sleeping habits are not my concern—the performance of my team is.

"I don't treat my other staff any differently." What does he expect from me?

"No. No, you don't." _Okay? _"If indifference was the issue then I would agree with you, but do any of your other staff have my problem?"

That's irrelevant? What point is he trying to make here?

"I know they don't," he says.

"And your point is?"

He shakes his head—again. "Why are you so reticent about this? Is it because I have the support of higher management than you, or is it because of something else?"

_I knew it!_

He's going to play the 'they are family' card. I need to tread carefully.

"Well, if I'm honest, I'd prefer for us to be able to work this out between us and not have relentless pressure put on me from above by your cousin." _Yes, Edward, I mean Esme._ "I don't like my authority, and my team, being undermined."

For the first time I notice a look of understanding cross his face. Have I been so wrong about him? Is he only just now getting it?

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. <em>

_This chapter covers Chapters 7-14 from Insomnia._


	14. Chapter 14

_Wednesday, 10:30 am_

Is he finally beginning to realize that I am frustrated and why? An odd look of empathy crosses his face, and I can't help but notice his forlorn expression when he says, "I don't want special treatment, just fairness. I don't feel that's what I get."

"How can we solve this?"

"Could we start by having an afternoon rather than a morning meeting?" he asks.

I'm so happy that this time it is a request rather than a directive that I can't help but reply, "That's certainly a possibility."

"As long as I'm achieving everything I need to achieve, can you accept that there are mornings I'm going to be late? Unfortunately, it's unavoidable."

But what is unavoidable? Him not being able to pull himself out of bed in the mornings? "This is where the problem lies. I still don't understand." And I need to understand this to be able to consider the allowances he is asking for. "Explain it to me."

"I'll try." He is sincere; I can hear it in his voice.

Pushing my chair back slightly, I stretch out my legs and watch him. He's just about to speak when Alice knocks on the door and looking at me says, "Sorry to interrupt, Mr.—" _Mr.? _Alice... What are you playing at? I immediately realize why she's here though, and all I can think is_, Oh shit, Carlisle!_

"It's okay, Alice. That meeting—I'd forgotten. I'll go up now." She nods her head and closes the door. I look back to Edward. "Sorry. I really need to get to my meeting; it's with your cousin actually, but I'd like to continue this conversation, soon." And I really would. We've made headway here, I think, and I don't want to do anything other than move forward.

"Okay," he says, standing and placing his presentation in front of me. "I hope this is what you were after. Just give me a yell if you need to discuss it before the team gets together again."

I'm distracted by his behavior—really distracted. He's a different person today, and God, I hope it continues.

_Wednesday, 10:40 am_

I walk past Alice, stopping to let her know what time to expect me back and then make my way to the elevator, noticing Emmett sitting in Edward's chair with Edward perched on the front corner of his desk as I pass; they are deep in conversation and don't notice me—I envy the easy rapport Edward has with his friend.

"Hi, Jasper," Tanya greets as I walk from the elevator and onto the executive floor. "He's expecting you, go straight in."

"Thanks, Tanya. How are you?"

"Really well, and you?'

"No complaints," I answer; she smiles at me as I walk past and knock on Carlisle's door before pushing it open.

"Carlisle, sorry I'm late."

"That's fine, Jasper. I was running to the wire myself; those extra minutes did me a favor." His smile is very genuine.

I like Carlisle, he's a really nice guy, easy to communicate with and very professional. We discuss the Pearson Project; he's very happy with our progress and excited for next week. I couldn't ask for more than that.

"How is everything going with Edward, Jasper?"

This change in the conversation comes from left field, and I take a moment to think of my response. Even though Esme is the one who intimidates me, and I have no doubt the reason why relates to Edward, I'm not foolish enough to believe that a certain level of nepotism wouldn't come from Carlisle if I pushed him on it.

He obviously senses my hesitancy to answer. "It's okay, Jasper. I would prefer you be frank with me rather than hold back. I know that Edward's insomnia is affecting his ability to be an equal participant in the team at the moment, and I can understand that would be making things difficult for you."

"Ummm…" I take a deep breath and decide I need to be candid with him. "It has been difficult, Carlisle, very difficult in fact. And honestly, I'm not sure I have dealt with it the best that I could've recently.

"Edward is doing a fantastic job with the targets I've set him, but his consistent late arrivals of a morning, and not always just the mornings unfortunately, are making it hard for the other members of the team to work with him to meet our goals."

"And what are you both doing to resolve the issues?"

"We were actually only talking about it before I came up here."

He looks confused. "Just now?"

"Yes." I can only imagine what he is thinking, _Just now, as in, for the first time? _But I choose to continue. "I understand that his insomnia has thrown out his body clock and his ability to get consistent sleep patterns; I don't understand why that is, but I do understand that he has little control over it. I'm willing to work with him to a point, Carlisle, but I struggle to do so when I have so little information to go on. I just don't think it's fair to the other members of my team. They all manage to get here on time every day, and we all have different things to deal with, that is just life."

"Yes it is, Jasper, and I do understand your frustration, I really do, but are there any possible solutions here that you can see?"

"Actually, Edward asked if we could reschedule our morning meetings to give him a better chance to attend them. I said we could definitely consider it and I will, but I still feel doing so will only work against Edward. Carlisle, you must realize that Edward being related to you and Esme can sometimes be as much of a negative for him as it is a positive. Nepotism is a very difficult thing for many people to get over."

"Do you feel that way as well, Jasper?"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. And thanks to all of my very loyal readers for keeping with me. I appreciate the support so very much. <em>

_This covers Chapters 15-19 of Insomnia._


	15. Chapter 15

_Wednesday, 10:30 pm_

I'm cocooned in the soft leather of my sofa, lazily rubbing my fingers back and forth through Sebastian's long fur. He is purring loudly, his motor as I like to call it is lulling me into a sense of much-needed relaxation. Even as my heavy lids begin to close, my mind continues to process the day's events. I can't stop thinking of the question Carlisle asked me this morning.

_Do you feel that way as well, Jasper? _

I certainly did—and still do feel that Esme is absolutely playing favorites—but something about my conversation with Carlisle made me realize that it isn't nepotism on his part so much as a deep love for his cousin and a desire for the best possible outcome for everyone involved.

I hesitated, thrown by his question, and not quite sure what to say. At my delayed response, he smiled, telling me that he knew he'd let what was happening with Edward become my responsibility when it wasn't, and he was sorry for that.

I asked him, "Carlisle, if you knew that Edward's sleeping problems were an issue and that they'd most likely continue to be one, why didn't you warn me or at least let me know what was going on?"

I was pissed off. Had being new and ignorant to office politics turned me into the perfect scapegoat?

His regret was immediately evident, transforming his handsome face into a mask of contrition; he knew how unfair it had been for him to be so silent, and he said, "I'm so sorry for putting you in such a position, Jasper. It was incredibly unprofessional of me, but please know that from here-on in, you have my unwavering support."

He went on to tell me that after meeting me, and observing my easy acceptance into the team and my good rapport with the people I worked with, that he'd hoped that by transferring Edward to work with me that maybe things would've changed on their own. He was just disappointed it hadn't happened already.

His candor allowed me to open up a bit to him, and without revealing my 'personal feelings' for Edward, I was able to fill him in a bit more on exactly what had been happening, up to and including our meeting this morning. The fact that I felt confident we might be able to move forward from here, as soon as I learned more from Edward that was, was enough for him. He told me that he was content to leave it with me for the time being, if that was okay with me? It was.

I just hope I can learn to understand and with that knowledge I will then be able to make a difference.

The thing is; Carlisle knows little more than me. All he understands is that Edward can't sleep, he doesn't know why, but he does know how much it affects his life.

I've decided I have a new mission: I am going to find out all that I can about Edward Cullen.

Pushing Sebastian off my lap, I stand and make my way to the kitchen, putting my dirty glass in the dishwasher and pressing start. The action wakes me up enough to decide on taking a shower. I love nothing more than climbing into bed warm and damp after bathing at this time of night—well nearly nothing more—but so often lately I've been so exhausted with the stress of everything going on that I've allowed myself to fall asleep on the sofa and when I do wake at some ridiculous early morning hour, all I can bring myself to do is make it up the stairs, strip off and fall into bed.

I turn around and make my way to the staircase, realizing when I nearly step on him that my 'shadow' has uprooted himself from the lounge room and is waiting patiently for me to go upstairs. He might follow me, as he often does; maybe he'll sit on the bath rug and watch me while I shower—this is sometimes slightly disconcerting, depending on my shower activity at the time—or he'll curl up on the bed and wait for me to get in there with him.

"Come on, Sebs," I say as I walk past and step onto the first stair. He replies with a meow and then bounds past me as I ascend.

As I trudge up the stairs I remember the other important outcome of my meeting with Carlisle, something that has me very excited actually. Carlisle is surprising his wife with an impromptu vacation abroad. It is their wedding anniversary next week and some last minute changes to his schedule prompted him to book the trip as a gift to her. She is still unaware, and will be until tomorrow night when he plans on making the announcement, but he has asked that I step in and look after things at Cullen and Associates while they are gone for two weeks to France and Italy.

I'm excited to be given the opportunity and flattered that he feels me capable of the task, especially with the Pearson Account's imminent conclusion. Considering how new I am to the company it feels a great honor and I look forward to showing them both just what I am capable of.

All in all it has turned out to be a rather rewarding day.

As I stand under the warm spray of the shower, letting the massage jets work my tense muscles, my mind goes to where it usually does these days… Edward. With my eyes closed and the water pulling me into my altered reality, I concentrate on the smile I know he is capable of, hoping that it won't be too long before it gets directed at me and wondering what it will mean when it does.

"Reowwww…" I look down to find my audience staring at me. I'm sure he just shook his head.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed it.<em>

_This still covers Chapters 15-19_


	16. Chapter 16

_Thursday, 11:30 am_

I park my car and head for the elevator. I'd hoped to be back half an hour ago; now the rest of my day is behind schedule.

When I reach our floor I make my way directly to my office; hopefully, Alice is already in there preparing for my next meeting of the day.

I glance around; everyone is busy. Our little hive of activity is operating on full-throttle. Of course my eyes zero in on Edward, for some reason I always seek him out, but today I am surprised to meet his gaze. Even more amazing is the fact that it doesn't seem to be full of indifference or hatred. His green eyes seem to be studying me; I smile as I walk past him.

I'm sure his brow furrows.

I refuse to go backward with him. I made my resolution last night to move forward and I intend to follow through.

_Think on that, Mr. Cullen._

"Hi, Jazz."

"Hi, sweetie." I walk straight for the espresso machine, desperately needing a cup. "Is everything ready for my next meeting?"

"Sure is. That means you have ten minutes to spare, so make me one too and we'll go over it."

I smile—I lucked out the day assistants were assigned. Alice is not only the best friend in the world, but also the best assistant. I don't know what I'd do without her. "Thanks, sweetie, you know how much I appreciate it." She should know, I certainly tell her enough. "What's your poison?"

"Latte, please."

"How'd everything go this morning?" I don't really have to be more specific; she knows my question is loaded.

She pauses and all the negative thoughts I've been fighting to suppress for the last twelve hours come rushing back.

"Please don't tell me he was late."

"He was…" The look on her face is sympathetic, "but only by fifteen minutes and he actually came to see if you were in as soon as he arrived."

This is encouraging. "He did?"

"Yeah. When I said you were out, he asked that I call up and see if Esme was available."

This troubles me because I'm still so unsure of where I stand with her. "And?"

"He spent an hour or so with her but came back smiling." Curious.._._ I wonder what went on? "He really seems to be in a better mood, Jazz. Maybe you should take advantage of that."

"Let's not put the cart before the horse, Ali." She just shakes her head.

I battle through more meetings and finally have a moment to breathe at around four. Alice had brought me a sandwich earlier but I was too busy to eat it; now my stomach will not let me ignore it any longer.

She's at her desk when I walk out and we chat awhile until the noticeable growl alerts not only me but her as well to my predicament.

"You still haven't eaten?" Is her incredulous question.

"I was heading to the kitchen when I stopped to chat."

"Be gone with you then."

I laugh and walk away but am back only ten minutes later—Edward's desk is empty.

Alice fills me in. "Carlisle turned up just after you went to the kitchen and Edward left with him. I don't think they left the office…" Interesting… I wonder what that's about? Talks with both Esme and Carlisle in one day. A coincidence? I think not. After my meeting with Carlisle yesterday it wouldn't surprise me if they were talking about Edward's sleeping but I got the impression he was leaving that up to me. They could just be discussing travel plans. Oh, who knows? It's pointless to speculate.

"Didn't either of them tell you where they were going?"

She shakes her head. "No." That annoys me more than him being gone. I know it's Carlisle's company, but really?

"The boss does what the_ boss _wants." I don't wait for a response; I just walk into my office, closing the door behind me.

Alice poked her head in just after five-thirty while I was on the phone, gesticulating madly about needing to run. I waved and continued talking. It's now six and I'm more than ready to go home. I'm considering my dining options as I walk out.

_Edward._

To say I'm surprised to see him is an understatement.

"Oh, hi," I say. "I thought everyone had gone home."

"Yeah, so did I."

"Why are you still here?"

"I've been imbibing with Carlisle."

_I see._

"Oh. Alice said you left with him."

"Sorry, I should've said something. It's just that he came to my desk, and I didn't think I'd be lo—"

I interrupt. "That's fine, don't worry about it. It's not like he needs my permission to meet with any of _his_ employees." I inwardly cringe; why the fuck did I say that?

I'm impressed when he changes topic. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab some food." I'm not sure why I do it, but I ask, "Would you like to join me?"

"Ummm… Yeah… Sure…"

_Crap!_

"Sorry, forget it." I can't believe I put him in that position. "You're probably busy. I shouldn't have assumed—"

"No. You just took me by surprise."

_Really?_

"I thought it might give us a chance to finish yesterday's conversation in a more neutral setting." Way to deflect, Jazz!

"You want to finish it?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Didn't Carlisle discuss me with you yesterday?" Ahh, so they did talk about it.

"Yes."

I'm worried for a moment that he'll be pissed we were talking about him but he surprises me by answering, "Okay, I'm in. Where are we going?"

_He wants to eat with me? _

I can't help but laugh though. "Not that I want to make the decisions out of the office as well, but I was thinking of Jake's."

"Sounds perfect. Great food, cold beer, and it's only a block away. Let's go."

_Yeah! Let's go._

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed it.<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 38 of Insomnia._


	17. Chapter 17

_Thursday, 6:30 pm_

It's a nice evening so we decide to walk to the bar, chatting effortlessly along the way.

How can it be so easy now? It was _so_ difficult before.

We're seated at a booth toward the back of the busy eatery and it's not long before a waitress comes to take our order. I recognize her from when I was here last time with Mike; she's the one he said he'd 'do'. I smile to myself at the thought because she didn't even give him a second glance, even though he spent the majority of the night making goo-goo eyes at her and trying to get her attention.

We order a pitcher of beer and hot wings. I try to be as pleasant to the waitress as possible but she's very flirty. I'm not unused to women hitting on me, but most are a bit more in-tune to my subtle rebuttals than this one. I find it ironic that she chose to ignore Mike's signals yet doesn't pick up on mine.

When she returns with our food she is again very obvious in her attempts to flirt with me. I do nothing to encourage her but still she continues, and when she leans over the table and reaches for an already full ketchup bottle, forcing her fake tits in may face, I cringe, pulling back from her. Stupid girl—what the hell is wrong with her? An amused snicker pulls my attention to Edward; he obviously finds the situation amusing. I look for her name badge, trying to find what to call her so that I can make my point a little easier. Those tits... again... _Fuck!_

"That'll be all thanks, _Bella_." I can't help rolling my eyes as she walks away.

"She's not your type?"

He has my attention now. Hasn't he heard the rumors about me? "Definitely not!"

"Very pretty girl… and obviously very into you."

"That may be the case, but she's… let's just say, 'lacking something'," I say cryptically.

Lifting my beer I take a long drink, keeping my eyes on him the whole time. I notice him look to my hand and then his expression changes. What has he just worked out? I don't miss the small smile that graces his lips before he looks back to my face.

We just study each other for a few moments—it's actually rather intense. I feel a shift in the air.

He is so fucking beautiful. If I could paint his face it would become a timeless masterpiece. Every line: his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones, his nose… and his eyes, they are perfect. I seem to be drowning in his gaze…

And then he starts to talk.

We have so much in common: music, movies, books. How did I never know all of this about him? I feel robbed of something so incredibly important.

We chat for what seems forever, and I can't get enough. I want to know everything there is to know about him.

I watch mesmerized as he picks up one spicy wing after another. Dipping them into the blue-cheese dressing and then carefully eating the meat off the bones. When he licks his sauce-covered fingers into his mouth I feel my dick harden in my pants and try desperately not to let him see what he is doing to me.

"I thought you were hungry," he says as he pours more beer into both of our glasses and lifts his to his lips to drink. His tongue swipes his lips once he's done and I swallow hard before answering.

"I am," I say, forcing my hand to reach out and take some chicken and direct it to my mouth. I wonder if he will notice if I lick my lips before I bite—and I do, purposely. His eyes focus in on my mouth. Yes!

He may be turning me on in ways he could never understand as I watch him, but our conversation continues regardless as we eat and drink. He finds one story that I tell him particularly humorous and he laughs as I relay how my room mate, Peter, once decided to have a very private party in our dorm room without telling me before hand—a party that involved just him and three very naked women. When I narrate how I walked into the room, only to find them in what looked to me to be a very uncomfortable foursome, he's in hysterics, and his eyes glisten with his laughter. I've never seen him look better.

I finish with, "I couldn't sleep for weeks. I kept having nightmares about what I'd seen," which of course reminds me of his sleeping problems. He explains that he hasn't slept well for years and without really thinking before I speak, I say, "It must be hard for your partner to have to live with it as well."

"My partner?" he blurts out.

His shock is evident. Okay… It seems I've fucked up.

"I'm sorry. I was under the impression you didn't live alone."

"Why would you think that?" He shakes his head, obviously quite taken aback by my statement.

"Honestly, I don't know." Which is bullshit—I think of 'Jacob'. I can feel my face heat with embarrassment, "I obviously misinterpreted something I heard." _Yeah, that'll teach you to eavesdrop, moron._ Alice had said not to make anything of it until I knew for sure.

He smiles, easing my feeling of complete and utter stupidity and then says, "It's okay, honestly. Don't worry about it." He pauses a moment; the smile stays firmly on his face. "I'm certainly not."

He means it, I can tell. I actually don't think he's going to hold my foolishness against me. "Thanks. I just feel a bit stupid." I laugh, feeling embarrassed and awkward.

He gives his head one of those small humored shakes, but his expression and his eyes keep focused on me, and it makes me bold.

"So, you're single?"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks to everyone who continues to read, alert, favourite, and review. Your support means the world to me.<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 43 of Insomnia._


	18. Chapter 18

_Thursday, 9:30 pm_

He takes a moment to consider my question. I'm curious at the expression on his face; he seems… intrigued.

"I am."

Well, well. How interesting.

He adds, "How about you, anyone special in your life?" then lifts his glass, finishing his beer with one long swallow. _Fuck!_

I'm about to respond; tempted to say, 'Not until now,' but am saved by the return of our annoying waitress.

I shake my head when she puts the moves on Edward… she really is shameless, but I'm happy to see that it doesn't seem to affect him.

She purrs, "Can I get you anything else tonight?" Her lips are pulled into what I'd almost call a sneer. Good grief. I'm not sure I'd even wish her upon Mike, and that's saying something.

Ignoring her he looks to me. "Should we have another drink?"

I'm not sure why I do it, because it could be three in the morning and there's no way I'd move from this seat, but I glance at my watch. "I'm game if you are."

"Sure." His eyes don't leave me for a moment but then he looks back to her. "Two more of the same thanks." She huffs and walks away, mumbling something.

He looks back to me. "So, you were about to say."

Interesting. That was quick.

"I didn't think you'd let that slip."

"Definitely not." He watches me closely. "You certainly know more about me than I know about you."

"That _is _my job."

"We're not at work now. Spill."

I can't help my amusement at his eagerness, so I smile my sexy lopsided grin. "I am without a doubt, single."

He seems happy with my response but adds, "You just haven't found her yet?"

Ha! He's digging. "Oh, I definitely haven't found _her."_

His response is quick. "Him?"

"No, not yet." Two can play at this game… _Edward_. "But I'm _always_ looking."

I watch him process that!

When Bella returns with our drinks her audacity astounds me. She first flirts with Edward and when she gets no response turns to me.

"Sweetheart, you're wasting your time."

"What do you mean gorgeous?" she asks, shaking those tits in my face again.

"You know exactly what I mean, _Bella_." I stare straight at her, forcing her to take notice. "We bat for the other team."

When I notice Edward coughing on his drink I look toward him—he wasn't expecting that from me. He wipes his mouth with a napkin but continues to look at the wall.

I smile when I hear her say, "It's always the freaking hot ones," as she walks away.

Thanks for the compliment, sweet cheeks, I think to myself sarcastically. There's no way in hell you would ever be getting a piece of either of us. I guarantee it.

Edward laughs and then he says, "Ouch!"

"She was annoying me, and I've had just enough beer to not give a fuck."

He stares at me while he processes what I just said, and I'm delighted with his next statement. "I think I like your alter ego."

"Well, I definitely like yours," I retort quickly.

He blushes.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I change the subject. "As you know, when I had to leave in the middle of our chat yesterday, it was for a meeting with your cousin."

"Hmmm." He nods.

"You were part of that discussion."

"Yes, he mentioned that this afternoon when I was in his office."

"He didn't fill me in on your personal details, but he did ask that I look at our… situation, objectively."

"Weren't you being objective before?" I think he's already realized this, but he doesn't seem angered.

I was less than objective for many reasons, not the least of which is that I'm so incredibly attracted to him. Tonight has just cemented that fact.

"No, I don't think I was."

"Why?"

"If I'm honest, it grated on me that I had the boss's cousin in my team, and because of this, I felt pressure to make exception for something I wouldn't tolerate in anyone else."

"But that's not really fair. You didn't discuss it with me you just—"

"I know," I interrupt. "I didn't deal with it well. In saying that, you didn't come to me to explain that there would be issues related to your sleeping that would impact _our_ team."

He ponders my words and seems to accept them.

"I have to confess something. I was late this morning."

"I know."

"Alice?"

"Always. She is very loyal."

His laugh warms me, and when he stops he smiles and admits, "Well, I have one of those too, and I've asked her to rein in the hounds." _Ah, Esme._

"Carlisle may have been one step ahead of you there. His wife is definitely a dynamo," I admit, happy that Carlisle does in fact intend to speak to his wife. Although something tells me there's going to be less of a reason for it—I certainly hope so, anyway.

He takes the initiative and begins to explain how sleep has been his enemy for a few years now. He's not sure why it started, or even when, but it got out of control. All he can explain is that when he finally falls asleep at three or four in the morning, exhausted and utterly spent, he falls hard—so hard in fact, that when his alarm sounds barely a foot from his ear only hours later, he doesn't hear it.

He doesn't understand, so how can I, but I'm going to work with him on it. I'm going to try.

"Now that we've got that sorted, where were we?" I ask, watching him intently.

"Where would you like for us to be?"

_Us? _

Every possible meaning for that statement tumbles through my brain. Was it really as suggestive as it sounded?

'Where would you like for us to be?' I repeat his question to myself.

Oh, Edward, you have no idea.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	19. Chapter 19

I went out on a limb saying that we batted for the other team, but it paid off. I'm _sure_ he is gay; no straight man would have reacted the way he did, and his question... It still has my heart racing.

It was laced with so much innuendo. 'Us!' Why would he say that? What was he intimating?

I watch him… Actually, I can't take my eyes off him. What has happened to him? Was I so wrong in believing he hated me before? Surely he couldn't have changed his opinion of me that quickly. But was it quick? I think back to the smiles and glances we've shared over the last two days. Ever since we spoke in the boardroom. They were only small steps, I know that, but they seem to have been a start. Hell, he came here with me tonight. He's sitting across from me now.

For every second I have studied him, he has done the same to me. Those green eyes bore into me with a similar intensity to my own. I've never experienced anything like it. If I were to explain it, I'd have to say that it's as if the air between us is sparking. It truly is electric.

What if I'm wrong? Am I so caught up in the idea of him that I'm imagining his signals? God, I hope I'm not. I would truly be devastated to find out this isn't what it feels like for him. Every fantasy I've ever had of him is flashing through my mind. I want a chance to make some of them a reality.

God, I do!

I need to be cautious though. Firstly, because if I'm wrong… I'd hate to think of the ramifications, and secondly, I'm his boss. In every fantasy I've had of him that hasn't been an issue, because they were just that, fantasies. I never thought I had a hope in hell, I thought he despised me. Can I go into this knowing that? Would it be wrong of me to do so?

Damn it, I am going to take a chance.

"I'm feeling very confident right now, but regardless, I'm not sure I should answer that question." I take my time before I continue, trying desperately to read every signal he is offering me. He hasn't even flinched. He is obviously processing my words, but he seems to accept them… Maybe even like them.

"I want whatever _this_ is," I say, and motion between us with my hand. "More than I've wanted anything for a very long time." I can't believe I am saying these things to him, but every word, and his subsequent reactions to them, is spurring me on.

Am I ready to launch myself across the table at him? Fuck, I want to, but even in my lustful state I know that wouldn't be wise. He needs time to think about this—hell, I need time to think about this. "I think we need to take a step back."

He nods his agreement, but his following response seems forced, as if he's saying it because he should not because he wants to. "Yes."

He wants me; I think he really wants me.

My smile is hopeful as I say, "If we feel the same, after we've had time to think and without the influence of alcohol, then maybe we could see what happens."

He nods his gorgeous head and smiles. I melt just a little bit.

All I can do now is settle the check. I look for Bella, and when I get her attention, call her over and pass her my credit card.

I can't believe that we haven't even said another word, but every look has relayed a thousand. The current surrounding us is still strong; actually, it's a force to be reckoned with. Fuck time; I need something now to let me know I'm not imagining everything. This will be the real test.

As we reach the entry, I can't help but notice we are alone, and with every ounce of courage I can master I turn to him and block him against the wall, caging him with my arms. He doesn't resist.

"Don't think that because we're leaving here separately now that I don't want you." I stare at him, owning him with my eyes, and when he doesn't even flinch at my proximity I lean in and kiss his soft lips. I'm not sure if he feels my arousal; I kind of hope he does.

He doesn't say a word as I jump into a taxi and close the door.

.

I spend the ride home going over every possibility, every consequence.

As I open the front door, I'm met by Sebastian. "Hi, fella," I say, bending down to rub behind his ears. As I feed him, I relay my evening; I'm sure he is listening to every word. If only he could offer his sage advice back.

I find myself in the shower. I don't remember getting here, but the feel of the hot water on my shoulders soothes me and erases my worries—at least for the moment.

As I bathe myself, my soapy hands roaming over my body, I let my mind drift to its happiest place—Edward.

I have new visuals now: ones of green eyes that sparkle with interest and desire. I can't help but react to them. I want him to look at me like that again. I want to feel my lips on his… again.

I imagine those plump lips around my cock; those green eyes looking up at me through damp lashes as he sucks me deeply into his throat.

Right here in this shower.

On his knees.

My eyes are closed; it's as if he's here.

The pressure of my hand as I stroke myself and the warmth of the water let my imagination soar.

It _is _his warm mouth and they _are_ his eyes.

He is moaning around me.

"EDWARD!"

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for taking the time to read. Cheers. Hope you're enjoying their progress.<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 55 of Insomnia._


	20. Chapter 20

_Friday, 7:30 am_

"And what's put that smile on your face, Jazzy?" Alice asks as soon as she walks into my office. I've only been here for ten minutes, but I've been up—in more ways than one—for two hours, and my cheeks are actually hurting because of the grin I seem to have permanently etched onto my face.

I can still see those eyes; I can still taste those lips.

Surely that must mean it wasn't a dream.

I still haven't answered Alice and she isn't having a bar of it. "Jasper?"

"Umm… Sorry, sweetie. I'm just a bit distracted."

"Yes, you certainly are. What's going on with you?"

I want so badly to tell her, but I'm afraid to jinx myself. Not that it's a decision I get to make anyway; there's no keeping anything from Alice.

"This has to do with Edward, doesn't it?" She walks right up to me and takes my chin in her tiny hand, bending my face down to look at her. "Oh, my god, it does." She continues to eyeball me, and the fact is, I can keep nothing from her. "Something happened, didn't it?" She starts to bounce on her toes as her excitement grows. "You tell me now, Jasper Whitlock. What happened?"

"I— I think I kissed him, Ali."

"You _think _you kissed him?" She's looking at me like I'm mad. "What do you mean, you _think_ you kissed him? You either kissed him or you didn't, Jazz."

"Oh, I kissed him, but now in the light of day I'm afraid it was all a dream."

"Jazzy," she coos, rubbing my cheek before moving her hand to mine and leading me to the couch. "Tell me everything, honey."

And I do. I tell her everything. She listens to it all without saying a word.

"Do you still think it was dream, Jazz?" she asks when I've finished.

I reach up and rub my fingers over my lips, remembering how it had felt to touch them to Edward's.

"No."

She doesn't say a word, just raises her brow at me and smiles, then gets up and leaves the room.

I get stuck into my emails, feeling much more at ease with what happened last night and much more confident.

I'm just getting ready to go meet with Carlisle when Alice buzzes me and whispers, "He's here. Walked in the door two minutes ago, headed for the kitchen." The line goes dead. I smile at her covertness and then process her words. He's here and it's just on eight-twenty. Wow.

As I leave my office, I notice Jessica at her desk and walk over to say good morning, knowing it will enable me to look directly at Edward when I turn around and walk back for the elevator.

I'm being sneaky and I don't care. I need to gauge his reaction to me.

When our eyes meet, he smiles. _Yes!_

Carlisle and I go over everything that he needs me to cover during the following two weeks. Still excited by the responsibility he is giving me, I let him know again how grateful I am for the chance.

"You have nothing to worry about, Carlisle. Just enjoy your time with Esme and leave the rest to me."

"I'm not worried, Jasper. I wouldn't have offered you the job if I wasn't certain you could do it."

"Well, thanks for your confidence. I hope I have lots of good news for you when you get back."

"Something tells me you will." Curious.

The day continues as almost any other would, with one glaring difference—Edward. He's there—always there. Our eyes meet every time I leave the room and we smile, each interaction boosting my confidence.

I try to focus when I'm speaking with Mike or Tyler, but I find it hard. I can feel him watching me.

The day has passed in a blur and I'm trying to tie up a few loose ends before the weekend when Alice comes in and sits down.

"I hope you're going to take that boy home and fuck him tonight."

I'm so blown away by her words that I can't even come up with a response, my mouth just opens and closes, trying desperately to find words.

"And don't get all coy with me, Jasper Whitlock. If you two had eye-fucked each other any more today, we'd all be a lust-fueled mess. I could nearly 'feel' the sexual tension between you. It was off the charts."

"No… umm, I mean, no…" I stutter out, until I find my voice. "Oh shit, Alice. Was I that obvious?"

"No, not to those fools, but certainly to me." I remember Carlisle's obscure statement. He couldn't have possibly meant anything by it… Could he?

I look to her for support; her expression tells me I have it. "I don't just want him, Ali, I _need_ him. Desperately."

She stands and turns for the door; even though I can't see her face, her parting words inspire me. "He'll be yours, I know he will."

I wait in my office and as soon as I hear the ping of the doors closing I walk toward Edward. He is standing and looking at the silver panels and I wonder for a moment what he is waiting for. Does he know I'm here in the room with him? Did he hear me come out? Does he care?

"I was hoping they'd hurry up and go." I hear him take a breath at my words, but he still hasn't turned around and I'm a bit nervous. I want to move closer to him, maybe touch his shoulder, but I don't. "This room has eyes." I'd hate for security to see me be too close to him in this empty office. "I'm going back into my office now." There are no cameras in the manager's offices. "I'll be waiting for you." I turn and make my way there.

Please, follow me.

_Please, follow me._

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for taking the time to read.<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 65 of Insomnia._


	21. Chapter 21

_Friday, 6:30 pm_

Why hasn't he followed me?

I hear the sound of his chair being pulled back. He's sitting down?

_Oh, god, I've fucked up._

The day races through my memory again, every moment of it: looks, smiles, electricity.

I realize, those things, they mean nothing. All of it is only _my_ interpretation, not reality. I must have it so wrong.

But he's out there.

Why did he stay back? There's nothing important due tomorrow. Fuck, it's Friday night!

And he's still here… Why?

Moments pass and I hear a deep inhale and then the same scrape of his chair against the floor. His footsteps move toward my open doorway. I gravitate toward the sound, my steps silent on the carpet, but I match him step for step… he pauses.

Another deep breath.

Then he is standing in front of me, and every doubt I've had falls away with one look into his eyes.

In one split-second I see all of my desire mirrored back at me. He wants this. He wants me.

I'm not sure when I move, but I do, turning him against the wall, kicking the door closed with my foot. My lips meet his hungrily. I want him so desperately that my passion cannot be contained and I show him every emotion as our lips clash.

It's not just me kissing him, he's returning every lick, suck, and stroke of our tongues; spiraling me into an abyss I've never had the pleasure of knowing before. We continue this way until we can go on no more, desperate for air and a moment to settle down. I feel my heart pounding under my ribs as my forehead meets his; our audible breaths echo around us, cocooning us in what they symbolize—want and pure passion.

We have so much to look forward to.

My hands are still on the wall beside his head, our foreheads still touching, and our noses gently caressing. With my eyes closed as I absorb every emotion I'm feeling, I don't see, only feel his hands as they move up my sides and then thread into my hair, holding my head so that I can't move away—not that I want to.

I want so badly to be even closer, so that's what I do. I take the smallest of steps toward him until I can't go any farther and we're pressed together from forehead to groin. Oh, fuck. He's hard.

"I want you so bad," I whisper. He hears me because his breath hitches again. "You're all I've thought about all day." Which is true; I've been nearly useless with him as my distraction.

He must like what he hears because he angles my head and kisses me. When he pushes his tongue into my mouth, eager and passionate, I nearly come undone. I'm hard as a rock. Aching… wanting… needing… everything about him.

Does he have any idea of what he's doing to me?

I straighten up slightly and remove my hands from the wall and begin to undo his tie. It's a bold move, but his emerald eyes blaze at me. He likes it.

Once the silk fabric is hanging lose, I start on his buttons, undoing the neck first and then two below, taking my time as I gaze intently between his eyes and the skin I'm slowly revealing.

He's straining in his underwear, his arousal painfully obvious against my own. I push against him slightly, reveling in the feel of his cock grinding against mine, even if there are far too many barriers between our flesh.

I remember my words from last night: 'If we feel the same (tomorrow)...then maybe we could see what happens.'

"I take _this_," I push gently again; I can't resist, "to mean that we've both thought about it."

There's no hesitation. "Oh, yes. Definitely."

_Yes!_

I've finished with his buttons and pulled his shirt from his slacks; it's just hanging there, exposing every delectable inch of his chest and abdomen. _Jesus Christ in Heaven… Thank you._ I attach my lips to his skin, trailing over as much as I can without moving away from him. He tastes amazing. A heady mixture of man that is utterly delicious. As I lave him, my hands find the opening of his slacks and quickly undo them. I have no intention of wasting a moment.

I don't push down his briefs; instead, I decide to run my fingers just under the elastic. When I touch his cock we both moan. My knuckles graze his stomach and my fingertips caress the soft, silky skin of his glans. I want so much more.

I need to see his face, so I move back a fraction, allowing me to focus.

"I wasn't quite truthful earlier," I say, needing him to know more about how I'm feeling.

"You weren't?" his voice stutters and I realize how that must have sounded. I smile and quickly correct.

"No, I said I'd thought of you all day, but that isn't exactly the truth."

"It isn't." He's unsure; I can't allow that.

"The truth is that I've thought of you every," my lips attach to his throat and I kiss him softly, "single," then I move to his clavicle and suck for a moment there, "minute," I push my hand down into his briefs, allowing my fingers to feel more of him, "since I left you last night."

I rub across the tip of his cock, he's leaking, and I take his arousal onto my thumb. He gasps.

"You want me."

"God, yes."

"And you're going to have me," I say, continuing to tease him. "But first, there's something I need to do."

I pull my hand from its confinement, feeling the moisture on my thumb and even though I'm eager to taste him, I take my time, dragging my fingers over his skin as I move up to take my thumb into my mouth.

His mouth opens and a silent "Fuck" leaves it.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed.<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 71 of Insomnia._


	22. Chapter 22

_Friday, 7:00 pm_

His eyes blaze as he watches me suck 'him' from my thumb. I hear his breath hitch even though I don't see his chest rise because my eyes are locked to his.

I need to kiss him; I need to share his flavor with him.

My lips meet his again. It's not slow; it's not sensual. It is fast and erotic. My tongue plunders his mouth, pushing eagerly in. I feel his hands at my chest and his fingers as they start to undo my buttons. I want to feel his skin against mine but there is something I need to do first.

"No," I tell him, my tone commanding. He pauses his movements, but his fists grip the fabric of my shirt, testing my resolve. I continue, "I haven't finished with you yet."

"What more did you have in mind?" he asks, his tone challenging me.

"Plenty."

I fall to my knees, pulling his slacks and underwear down with me. His cock springs free at the same time as my nose gets a chance to take in the musky aroma of his groin. I crave him and waste no time sucking him quickly and deeply into my mouth.

His shaft is like satin against my tongue and I can feel the spongy ridge of his head driving into the back of my throat. I'm surprised I'm not gagging, because he is certainly not small, but it's as if he's made for my mouth.

I've had my eyes shut as I've luxuriated in the sensations of pleasing him, but I need to look at him. I need to see what his reaction is.

I look up through my lashes as I pull back, sucking and licking at his crown. He lets out an almighty groan and explodes in my mouth. I plunge back down his length, swallowing quickly, trying my best to take his entire load, and I feel like giving myself a pat on the back when I'm successful.

I release his softening cock, kissing it lightly as it falls to nestle in his auburn curls and then wait a moment, calming myself as much as allowing him to do the same, before I start kissing his stomach and hip bones as I begin to pull his briefs up over his ass and begin to re-fasten his pants. I feel his fingers comb into my hair and he grips lightly, tilting my head up so that I am looking at him.

"I think you're going in the wrong direction. Shouldn't they be coming all the way off?"

I smile. I know he wants more. Fuck, I want more, but not here. Not now.

"As much as I want you naked now, this isn't the place for more." I stand slowly and cup his cheeks in my hands. "Come home with me?"

There is only a brief pause and then he says, "Yes." I'm excited by his answer. It is enough to make me want to kiss him again. I can't believe it when it is _his_ lips that meet mine. He doesn't seem at all concerned by the fact that he just came in my mouth. His kiss holds all of the passion, and more, of those that preceded it.

His hands leave my hair and move down my body, taking my ass and pulling me into him. He must be able to feel how hard I am; my erection is painful in its intensity, but the wait to have more of him will be absolutely worth it.

"Let's not waste any time, lead the way," he says, his voice holding an edge of desperation that spurs me on even more.

As I straighten myself up, I watch him buttoning his shirt, amazed that the act is as erotic as when I undid it. His long fingers skillfully whip over the buttons and then he tucks himself in and does up his zipper and belt around his lean waist. He is so fucking sexy. And for tonight he is mine.

I'm so happy right now that Carlisle insisted Paul pick me up this morning, knowing that the car would be available for my use from this evening onward.

I don't miss the look in Paul's eyes when Edward and I walk from the building. "Good evening, gents, where am I taking you tonight?" He quickly opens the door and turns to Edward. "Shall I drop you off first, Mr. Cullen, your house is closer, or you, Mr. Whitlock?"

"Actually, Paul, we'll both be going to my house thanks," I tell him.

"Certainly, Sir." He nods as we climb into the car and then the door is closed behind us.

"Well, that was interesting," Edward tells me. "I'm sure he has a million questions running through his head at the moment."

Paul often drives me around. He's a nice guy and he knows his place. "I'm sure he does. Aren't we lucky he is faultlessly discreet?"

"We certainly are," he agrees, and as soon as the car is moving forward, so does Edward, right to between my legs.

He kisses me first, teasing me in a similar way as to how I did with him, then his lips leave mine and he makes his way across my chest. He doesn't try to undo my clothes, but it doesn't matter. His lips and teeth are equally effective through the soft fabric of my Armani business shirt.

As his tongue circles one of my nipples, I feel his hands begin to release my belt and then my zipper is undone and he has freed me. Those long fingers grip me tightly, stroking a few times and then his mouth is gone from my chest and he has taken me with a similar haste into his mouth and throat, plunging repeatedly along my shaft until I simply cannot take it any more.

I warn him. "Edward… gonna come." He doesn't stop. "Oh, Jesus, Edward… Now. _Fuck._"

I'm sure he smiles.

* * *

><p><em>;)<em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 77 of Insomnia._


	23. Chapter 23

_Friday, 8:00 pm_

I'm struggling to come to grips with how powerful that orgasm was. If he can do that to me with his mouth, I can only imagine what it will be like when we're naked and he's inside me, or heaven forbid, I'm inside him.

Sated, I watch as he does up my trousers, finishing just as we feel the car pull to a stop at my house. He kisses me then sits back in his seat only seconds before Paul opens the door for us.

"Here we are. Would you like me to wait for you, Sir," he asks, looking at Edward.

"No thanks, Paul. I'll organize my own way home. We have a lot to do tonight." I'm so excited that he intends staying for a while. My heart sings at the thought that it may even mean he'll be here _all_ night.

"Certainly, Sir," Paul says, looking at Edward, then he looks between us and says, "Goodnight." I smile and nod at him, not confident I could form legible words to reply. He doesn't seem phased, just makes his way to the driver's door and then the car is driving away, the headlights disappearing into the dark.

I turn and look at Edward; the only light available to me is a smattering of stars and a near-full moon. He is still watching the limo and I am in awe of his profile: strong jaw, aristocratic nose, mussed-up hair. He is so incredibly beautiful. And I am so incredibly lucky.

I watch as he takes a deep breath and then turns. He pauses for just a moment; our eyes meet in the dim glow and then his hand is in my hair and he is pulling me to him. Our kisses are not so frantic this time. They warm me, stoking the fire that has been smoldering all night. And as the heat amps up it is him that begins to back me toward the front door. When we reach it he takes control, hemming me in, my back hard against the wood and him hard against me—in every way.

I drop my briefcase and shrug off my coat. He has done the same and we both now have two hands to explore with. I'm not overly surprised when I feel my shirt ripped open, the buttons scattering across the path. It turns me on to think that he is so needy of me that he can't wait to undo them properly. When his hands reach for my belt, I moan, but know apart from it being far too cool out here that I'd rather at least get him through the door.

"Inside. Now."

He pulls back and looks at me and then I turn, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my keys. I feel his hot breath at my neck and struggle to get the key into the lock, because he has distracted me so thoroughly.

"Hurry," he says. His voice is a command and fuck if I don't like it.

The key finally finds its way and as soon as I turn the door falls open with us right behind it. It slams against the wall and I even hear a few paintings rattle on their hangings. He laughs. It is a deep and joyous sound. I'm ready to join him, and am sure he can see his amusement mirrored in my expression, but then I realize how close we are to total seclusion and I grab his tie and pull him into the entry with me.

I'm about to attack him when it occurs to me, and I'm not sure where the random thought comes from, that our things are just outside the door. "Oh, crap." Knowing it will only take seconds, I kiss his lips and then rush outside, picking up our briefcases and coats. I kick the door closed at the same time as I deposit them on the floor and then immediately move toward him. I feel pulled toward him, like I can't be away from him, even if I wanted to.

"I want you so damned bad." My words are a growl and I reach for his clothing, trying to remove it entirely as he does the same to mine.

"Nearly as much as I want you, I'm sure." I can hear the tease in his tone and then his lips are at my neck just under my ear. He brushes a few curls that have fallen forward out of the way, and then starts a line of sucking kisses along my throat to my Adam's apple. When he gets there he bites me; it's kind of hot.

"Is it a competition?" I moan.

He pulls back and meets my eyes.

"Only if we both win."

_I think we've already both won—at least, I know I have._

He seems to be thinking on my words and I take his moment of distraction to grasp at his clothing—it's payback time. The buttons of his pale green shirt bounce across the tile floor—the sound is like little bells in the quiet room. His momentary shock is all I need, and I bend forward, biting softly on his already pebbled nipple.

"Uhhhn," he cries out, and I reach up and flick my thumb across the other side of his chest.

"Can't... wait... any... longer..." I say as I alternately lave his chest. I know I need more than this; I am beyond aroused and nearly ready to push him down on the floor right here.

I feel his hand move under the open shoulders of my shirt and push it off my body.

It only takes moments for all of our clothes to end up on the floor.

He is naked. I am naked.

I've thought the word so many times already, but he really _is_ the epitome of 'beautiful': an Adonis standing right here in front of me in my entry.

And tonight he is mine.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	24. Chapter 24

_Friday, 8:20 pm_

Tonight he is mine. He's here in my house and I'm going to make the most of it in every way.

I take a moment to just observe him. Starting at his feet I notice his long toes and I realize I can't wait to suck them. This surprises me because it's never been something I've wanted before, but I want to taste every part of him. His legs are spectacular: long, lean and lightly muscled, and they lead my eyes straight to his cock; it's still hard, jutting from his body, and I can just make out a shimmering bead of his arousal at the tip. I find it hard to move my eyes from there; I'm captivated. Every breath he takes makes his length bounce slightly; it's as if he has me hypnotized. I watch entranced as the bead grows and starts to drip…

Movement pulls me back into the moment and then we are in each other's arms. Wanton kisses and needy hands seem to be all over my body. I'm sure I feel that 'bead' as it smears against my stomach. _Fuck!_

"Bedroom. Now." He voice is demanding, but the breathy sigh that accompanies it amuses me.

Such a juxtaposition.

I can't resist. "I wouldn't have taken you for being so… _vanilla_."

I have no illusions that he is. He's shown me nothing to this point to indicate that he won't excite me at every turn, and even though I know the vastness of my king-sized bed would enable me to worship his body in all the ways that he deserves me to, my need at this moment is just too great. I need more, _now_!

I'm not sure what it is about pushing your partner against a wall or hard surface, but I find it incredibly erotic and the urge to do it again to him now courses through me. My hands are on his back; I can feel the tight muscles of his shoulders and know I want to concentrate on them. The wall is behind him so I turn him, pushing his chest flush against it. I see the deep burgundy color over his shoulder; against the paleness of his skin it is sublime.

He is so fucking sexy.

I'm hungry for him. I wonder whether I'm being too rough as I bite and suck at the flawless skin of his shoulders and neck, but am reassured as soon as his body starts to writhe under me.

I grasp his upper arms firmly, steadying myself. The pure masculine strength of his muscles cording under my fingers causes my body to involuntarily rut against him. Without any conscious assistance, my hard shaft finds its way to the ultimate place, and slides between the cheeks of his ass. _Jesus Christ! _I continue to kiss him and he continues to move against me.

I move; he moves.

"More," he moans. And it really is a 'moan'—needy and full of desire.

"Here? In my entry?" I ask, pushing my nose close to his ear.

"God, yes." _Fuck! _I can't stop my internal voice from cursing every time he does something sexy. I just can't believe we are here like this. I have an instant vision of me taking him here, against the wall. _Yes!_

"Stay here. Do _not_ move an inch."

I run up the stairs. My speed surprises even me; those early morning workouts have paid off in spades. It takes but seconds to grab the lube and a few condoms—I have no intention of leaving him again, and who knows what will happen when I get downstairs.

When I return I am impressed. He's still standing there against the wall. Legs slightly spread; chest hard against it, supporting his weight; arms hanging at his sides; his face to the side, resting only one cheek at its surface. His eyes are closed.

Holy fuck, he hasn't moved.

Not a single inch.

"Did you miss me?" I whisper.

"Maybe."

"Maybe? I'm wounded." I kiss the skin just under his ear and then begin to trail my mouth down his back. Taking my time I lick over every ridge of his spine. I'm at the hollow of his lower back when I pull away and say, "I must have been doing something wrong."

"Believe me… you've… you've been doing everything right." I love that he can barely get the words out, that I am making him that way.

"Good. I hope I can keep it up."

"I can assure you it's… up." Oh, you cheeky devil. By the way his hips are skewed slightly from the wall I have no doubt he is 'up'.

I'm on my knees behind him, in the perfect position to grab his hips and pull him farther back. I reach around and take his cock in my hand. "Yes, you certainly are." I hardly move it, just keep a tight restraining pressure.

I want to taste him. His skin… anything. My lips meet the cheeks of his ass, kissing all over the smooth flesh and then unable to resist I include my teeth.

"Fuck!" he exclaims, and I chuckle against his flesh.

I keep my determined grip on his cock and use my free hand to push against the inside of his knees, edging his legs apart.

"What are you doing to me?" he moans out when I take my hand back to his ass, squeezing one cheek and pushing it to the side, exposing him to me.

"Whatever you want me to do," I growl and then my tongue is running along his crack, circling his hole, and pushing gently against his opening. I let go of his ass-cheek and reach for the lube, flicking the cap and squeezing out some of the slippery fluid onto my index and middle finger. As soon as I have it spread on my fingers I pull my head back and watch with fascination as I push into him.

"Oh, God…"


	25. Chapter 25

_Friday, 9:00 pm_

His words encourage me.

After a few pumps, I push in a second finger, loving the feel of his muscles clenching around me. He's so tight... so warm... I can't even fathom how good he'll feel around my cock. But it's not about me at the moment. I want him... no, I need for him to feel this pleasure right now. My other hand is still holding him tight; it's just a firm pressure near the head of his cock, but he seems to like it. His hips are moving just the slightest bit, his body searching for more of _something_. As his muscles relax I push in a third finger. The low guttural moan he expels has me standing up, my lips kissing along his back until I'm right behind him again, angled so that I can get the best access to continue what I'm doing.

With my chin resting on his shoulder, I push up his leg with my own, holding it against the wall with my hip once it is high enough. He's so much more open to me now, and I'm pushing my fingers in and out of his body with gusto as I fuck him hard with them.

"You have no idea how hot you look like this," I tell him seductively, eliciting a little whimper. After licking his earlobe I continue, "And you have no idea how much I want you... How hard I'm going to fuck you, not only with my hand now, but also my cock later." I push my erection into him, showing him how hard I am for him, as I continue to push my fingers in and out, grazing his prostate occasionally, and sucking lightly on the skin of his neck.

His breath is ragged now; his body more insistent as it tries desperately to move against my hand. My body holds him tight against the wall, my fingers plunge in and out, and my hand holds his cock. I can feel his balls, the skin resting against my wrist, tighten and pull in and I know it will be only moments until he comes.

He is moaning now, his eyes are closed and his heart is pounding. I whisper, "Come for me, Edward," so softly I'm not even sure it registers with him, at the same time as I pump his length, gripping tightly over his glans and he explodes...

"Ungh," he cries; I feel his warm cum begin to spurt over my hand. My lips are still on his neck and my fingers are still insistent as I pull them over his prostate, massaging lightly for a few moments, before repeating it all over again.

"Oh my god, oh my god," he chants.

"You liked that, beautiful?" I ask, elated to have pleasured him so thoroughly. My fingers have slowed but not stopped, as I wait for every tremor to subside before I leave his body.

"Fuck, yes," he exclaims. "What wasn't there to like?" He turns slightly and our lips meet as he thanks me with his kiss, which I return with gusto. Then he pulls back and looks at me. "You'll wear me out."

God, I hope so. If I can have any part at all in helping him get a good night's sleep, then I'm all in. "Oh, you'll sleep tonight. I promise." I kiss his lips once more, knowing in my heart that I will work him hard tonight. I have every intention of making him sleep for hours—in my bed, right next to me.

"Interesting… That's a promise is it?" he teases before grasping my face and pulling me to him again. Our eyes meet and we have another moment, cementing what he already means to me.

This is no one-night stand; I want so much more.

He continues, "I'd hate to disappoint you, but you really are pushing for a tall order."

"I have my ways," I say, caressing his chest, but then he pushes his hips into me. I know he feels my erection, because his eyes close and he inhales deeply, as if to steady himself.

"Yes, I think you might. Come with me." Taking my hand in his, he leads me further into the house, picking up the supplies I got earlier as we pass. As if he's been here before, he takes me directly to the lounge room, and straight to my leather sofa.

"Sit."

Hmm… I like this. Is he going to go all demanding on me? I sit back in the deep seat, not letting go of his hand, nor looking away from him. I can't resist playing with my words from earlier. "Hmm… Not so vanilla after all."

"Definitely not."

_No, Edward, I don't think you are._

His face moves toward me, and he kisses my lips. It is brief but says so much. I'm surprised when he kneels between my legs for the second time tonight.

His eyes are fixed on my cock. It's as if he's assessing me—or making a plan. The pause makes me anxious, but in a good way. My body is craving his next touch.

"Let me take care of this for you." His hand grips me, pushing my shaft back against my stomach, then he bends forward, licking all the way from my sack to my tip.

_Holy shit._

"God, yes. Please."

He brings me to the edge, over and over; I'm nearly delirious with pleasure. And when he replaces his mouth with his hand and rolls a condom down my length, I'm sure my heart stops beating.

He straddles me and I groan loudly—I can't help myself.

"You are so fucking beautiful," I say, needing to kiss him. Needing the connection only kissing can provide. Our lips meet for a few blissful moments. As soon as I feel him reach behind and take my cock, lining me up with him, I'm done for. All I can do is hold my breath.

* * *

><p><em><em>This covers up to and including Chapter 96 of Insomnia… We're nearly at the end now, but fear not, Early Bird is far from finished.<em>_


	26. Chapter 26

_Friday, 9:25 pm_

He is slow, torturous even as he impales himself on me. I hold my breath until I gasp for air, just as I feel the skin of his ass touch my groin.

He is tight… oh, so tight. It's like nothing I've ever felt in my life before; I honestly can't imagine ever finding anything better. To be with him in this way is perfection. It's so much more than just sex.

He stills over me, allowing his body time to adjust. The intimacy of his forehead against mine, our breaths steady but tempered, is sublime. So many of my past trysts have been anonymous. They have been release and nothing else, but not this, not him.

He begins to rise and fall above me, his hands holding my shoulders for support. I watch his face as he fucks himself on me. His eyes are glazed and his skin is flushed…

He is perfect.

His pace picks up, and it's not long before he is riding me hard. That flushed skin begins to bead with sweat, and the moans that are escaping his lips have me starting to thrust up to meet him every time. He is panting now, as much from exhaustion as pleasure. We have already had orgasms, so both of us have excellent staying power this time, but his body begins to tire far before he reaches his peak. When he pauses above me, just above my thighs, I take that as my cue and begin to thrust upward, over and over.

My hands are hard on his hips, enabling me to lean forward slightly so that I can tell him, "You feel so good."

His eyes meet mine. "So good," he replies, and it takes all of my will power to hold off, because I nearly lose it when he reaches for his cock and grasps himself.

_Oh, fuck, _I think, as he begins to pump himself. _OH, FUCK! _

It's all too much, and we come together; me pulsing inside him as he releases all over my belly in thick, warm spurts.

"I knew it would be good, but…" I struggle to articulate. There is so much I want to say, but none of it is appropriate now.

"I know," he says. He is watching me intently. Can he see how much this means to me being with him in this way? I just hope it doesn't scare him away.

He slumps over me. His weight is welcome, supplying just that little bit of added reality to what is going on here tonight. As my softening cock slips from him, I feel bereft. I don't want him gone; I want to hold him inside me forever. Although, I'm quickly realizing that if my heart has a say in it, he is already there. I can only hope when he crashes his lips to mine that it is an indication of him feeling even a fraction of what I am now. The kisses are desperate—full of raw desire. I am astounded when I feel my cock rising again. I feel like an eighteen year-old. I can only put it down to one thing… him.

"Can't get enough… need more…" I need him; I need _more_ of him. "Need you… God, I need you inside me."

He's off my lap in a flash, but only to reach for the lube and another condom. I turn to kneel on the seat, facing the backrest and leaning my arms on it to steady myself. His fingers are at my hole so fast. He pushes one, then two fingers into me, scissoring them quickly but thoroughly, and then I feel the blunt head of his dick breaching me. He pauses and waits.

"Fuck me, Edward. Just fuck me now. I'm ready… Just do it."

I feel him pushing. The pain is there, a gripping pain at my underprepared hole, but I asked for this, I want this. I _need_ this.

"Edward… Edward… Edward…"

When I push back against him, he knows I'm ready and he begins to fuck me. Pulling out almost every time, his angle is perfect as he thrusts back in, punishing my prostate without fail.

When he cries out, "Fuck, yes. Oh, Jasper, _yes_," as his fourth orgasm overpowers him, I am right there with him.

"Edwarrrrrrd."

He collapses over me, enfolding my back while we catch our breath. I hate it when he pulls out of me, but am smiling, if somewhat sedately, when he maneuvers me to lie down on the sofa next to him. I'm so happy to own this right now; the seats are deep enough and the sofa long enough that we can lie next to each other, and we do, with him behind me. He pulls me in close; his chest spooned along my back, as we calm down. His lips don't stop though, and I feel every delicate kiss that he bestows on my neck and shoulders.

I'm too exhausted to move and clean us up and it seems he is too. I'm not sure when we fall asleep, although I imagine quite quickly, but it is a persistent meowing that wakes me up. I open an eye. It's takes a few moments to realize where I am and _whose _arm it is that is draped over me.

_Edward._

"Hi, Sebs," I whisper.

"Reow," is his reply. He seems agitated and it's probably because he's hungry. I didn't even spare him a thought when I got home.

I want to stay where I am, but neither of us needs a tenacious feline jumping onto our naked skin to gain attention, so I gently lift Edward's arm and move off the sofa. Sebastian is already on his way to the kitchen and I find him in front of the refrigerator when I get there. I pet him and feed him and am just washing my hands when strong arms circle my waist and I hear, "There you are."

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed reading. <em>

_This covers up to and including Chapter 99 of Insomnia…_


	27. Chapter 27

_Friday, 11:15 pm_

"Hi," I respond. The feel of his arms looped around my waist is incredible, and my body can't help but push back into him.

"I missed you." His lips meet my shoulder; the sensation sends shivers all over my body. "I woke up and you were gone… but then I heard you speaking to someone. I assume that 'someone' was him." He nods toward Sebastian who is heartily tucking into his bowl of chicken livers and bacon.

"Yes, my accomplice in crime." I smile—Sebs generally makes me do that—and coupled with the man behind me… well, why wouldn't I be happy?

Taking a towel, I wipe my hands then lightly caress the skin of his with my fingers. "Edward, meet Sebastian—sometimes known as Sebs, often known as Cat, and occasionally even Shithead." He laughs behind me. "And Sebs," of course 'Sebs' doesn't even spare us a glance, "I'd like to introduce you to the most gorgeous man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting: Edward."

He pulls me back from the sink and then turns me around, his arms are still around my waist and we are so close… I can feel every delectable bit of him pressed against me. His eyes bore into mine. I think he's assessing my words.

"Really?" He doesn't seem to believe what I just said.

"Yes, Edward. Really." I lift my hands to his face and caress his beautiful features gently. "You know how handsome you are." At his look of uncertainty I continue, "You do know, don't you?"

"I suppose I've been told it once or twice over the years," he answers. "I may have even thought it at one stage…" He trails off, lost in his memory. "But I sure haven't felt that way for a long time, Jasper."

It saddens me to realize that his sleeping habits have more than likely been the catalyst for him having such a negative opinion of himself. His life has been in turmoil, but I'm determined to help him move forward. For the 'has been' to become 'had been'. Over, finished, in the past.

"Well I can assure you that I've never met anyone more handsome than you, and I doubt I ever will." He smiles. I think he believes my words. "And I'm going to help you realize that not only are you physically amazing, but that every part of your life can be amazing too—including your sleeping."

"If only it were that easy—" he starts but I stop him.

"Didn't we just fall asleep on the sofa together then, Edward?"

"We did, but—"

"Did you sleep last night?" I gather he might have.

"Yes, but—"

"Stop second guessing yourself, Edward."

"Jasper… it just doesn't work that way. I've had two great nights with you, and I slept… but you're not always going to be there."

His words hurt. If he'll have me I want to be there every night for forever. I know I can't say that to him though, I'll scare him off. But now that I've had him like this, now that I've seen this side of him, I don't think I can ever let him go. I decide to ease him—and me—into it.

"Well, let's just concentrate on the here and now." He smiles and nods, and happy that I seem to have settled his mind, I lean forward and kiss his lips. The kiss is slow and sweet, lazy but full of everything I am feeling at the moment. I want him to feel it too.

When I pull back to take a much needed breath, I notice that my affection is not the only _thing_ I can feel. As my stomach muscles contract I feel the reminder of our lovemaking—all over me. I look down; we are covered in dried cum. It's gross, and it reminds me that we didn't clean up after our last time… or any of them for that matter. I know what we need.

"Come," I say, taking his hands from behind me and linking one in my own. "I have a rather remarkable bathroom. The shower is… perfect, if I do say so myself." He seems interested in where I'm going with this. "How about I show it to you?"

"Sounds great." His smile is wicked.

We leave the kitchen and I make sure to turn off the few lights that had been turned on as we go. We walk silently; there will be plenty of time for tours and discussions another time… maybe tomorrow. The idea of him still being here 'tomorrow' has my heart skipping away in my chest. He's here and he's showing no sign of leaving; I honestly can't believe it.

The shower is perfect… There is more than enough room, not that we probably need it, considering how close we are to each other. We're both covered in a slippery film of body wash; its woodsy scent's floating all around us in the steamy cubicle.

I pull the handheld showerhead from the wall. "Let me wash your hair." I'm not really asking permission, we're past that, it's more just a matter of forewarning him that I'm about to drench his head. "Turn," I command, and he does, pushing his slippery ass into my groin. I haven't got hard again… yet… but I'm damn close to being right back there if he keeps teasing me like that.

I choose to concentrate on his hair, maybe that will take my mind away from what he's doing, and make firm massaging circles with the shampoo all over his scalp. "Ahh… That feels so good, Jazz." My movements pause at his use of my shortened name. I feel him tense; he must think I don't like it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you that," he apologizes.

I turn him around and kiss his lips as firmly as I can. "No need for apologies, Ed, I really liked it."


	28. Chapter 28

_Friday, 11:45 pm_

"Yeah?" I nod and kiss his throat, not even bothered by the bitter taste of soap on my lips. "I like you calling me Ed too," he says. I can feel his throat move under my lips as he speaks. "No one else does that, not even Esme."

"Wow, well I feel honored to be your 'one and only'_._"

I pull back quickly, determined to watch his expression as he processes my words. His green eyes burn into mine, then his hands are pushing into my wet hair, anchoring my head and pulling it to his. Our lips crash together. I don't realize I've dropped the showerhead until I hear it clatter against the tile wall, and then water is spraying erratically around us as the hose performs like a snake and coils its way backward and forward.

I feel some water hit my face and then shampoo suds are running down from Edward's hair and into my eyes. I'd love for it not to bother me but it damned well burns. Reaching out blindly, I find the manic hose and grasp it to rinse us off, because it must be happening to him too.

"Do you have soap in your eyes, Ed?" I ask just before I start to rinse my face.

"Yeah." He sort of chuckles, but it sounds a bit pained. "My eyes are squeezed shut though. Rinse yours then give me the hose."

I've finished and am able to open my eyes. His beautiful face is covered in suds and it's nearly criminal to not be able to look into those green eyes of his.

"Let me," I say as I gently push his head back with my free hand, wiping some of the soap away before I tenderly begin to rinse his face. His eyes start to blink as the soap recedes and as soon as I realize his eyes are safe I begin to rinse his hair. His lids close again and it has nothing to do with soap this time; my fingers push through his soft locks, combing the strands to make sure all of the shampoo is gone. I make sure to resume the massage of his scalp and he obviously likes it because little sighs escape his pursed lips. Fuck, he's sexy. The room's halogen lights shine on his hair, and even wet and dark, I can see that the colors are many and varied. He's just _so_ beautiful.

Because we have already washed, I take just an extra moment to ensure he's soap-free and then turn the hose on me to do the same. I can't take my eyes off him though, and it's only moments until he begins to watch me too. He looks ravenous again, and I wonder if we have it in us to go another round.

I sure want to.

He reaches out and takes the showerhead from my hand, replacing it on the wall, and then he moves to the tap, turning the water off. We're still warm and wet, and because this room has heating I know we won't cool down in a hurry, so I make no move to step out. Nor does he.

We don't move, just watch the other. His gaze is intense, as if it's penetrating into my soul. My heart is thudding under his scrutiny, but it is the best kind of feeling.

When his hand reaches out and cups my cheek and jaw, his thumb rubbing over my cheekbone and then down to move over my lips, my involuntary reaction is to close my eyes and lean into his touch. It's delicate and tender, and truly one of the best things I've ever experienced. There are words I want to say, but I know it is too soon. The feelings I have for this man are so strong—they are a little bit terrifying really, but in the best possible way.

With my eyes still closed, I feel as his body closes in on mine, and then his other hand moves to mirror its twin. He leans in and kisses my closed lids, and then my nose, and then my lips… but they're not passionate kisses, they are more in their simplicity—so much more.

My head drops back and he makes the most of my exposed neck, attaching his lips and beginning to suck at the skin. He doesn't stay in one spot long enough to mark me… I think, but it feels so damned good.

"Edward," I moan at his ministrations.

His hands are on my arms now, and he is dragging his nails slowly down my overly sensitive skin as his lips continue their trail south. He bites at my nipples when he reaches them, the pressure of his mouth causing me to move back until my shoulders rest against the wall. It's good though because I won't fall over now that it's supporting me. He pulls away and steps in close; his body flush against mine as our mouths meet. Our kisses aren't the delicate ones of before, they are much hungrier, full of our rising passion. And they aren't the only things rising: along with our heartbeats, I note the sensation of his erection beginning to push against mine. If I had any doubt we could go another round it is now gone.

One of my hands moves into his soft hair again, and the other cups his ass and pulls him into me. Our wet cocks are sliding against each other, trapped between our bodies. There isn't a lot of room, but that only makes the feeling more intense.

With a final kiss, he pulls away, just enough to grasp us both in his hand.

"Fuck!" I exclaim.

He laughs. "No, not this time." I meet his eyes again. "This time I'm going to make love to you."

A few more strokes, then he lets go, taking my hand instead and leading me wet and wanting to my bed.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks to everyone who continues to support me and the story.<em>

_Just quickly: a few readers seemed to think last chapter was the morning after. NO, it wasn't. They only fell asleep for a couple of hours on the couch. Sebs woke Jasper at around 11:00pm and it's just before midnight now. These are the fill-in chapters until Edward wakes in Jasper's bed. Hope that helps._


	29. Chapter 29

_Saturday, 12:25 am_

'_I'm going to make love to you. I'm going to make love to you. I'm going to make love to you_.'

What did he mean?

_Don't be so literal, Jasper. They're only words. _

Turning his body, he begins to walk backward; we're about halfway to the bed from the bathroom. Reaching his free hand out he silently asks for mine and I give it to him, allowing him to pull me close again. As our bodies close in, he doesn't let go, he pushes his arms behind my back, effectively taking mine with them. I like the feeling of surrender this move gives me, like he's the one making all the decisions.

I can feel the chill of the room envelope my sensitized skin, heightening every movement.

His arms pull me closer. _Jesus_. His erection is hard against mine again, the blunt head initially pushing into my groin, but then settling up against my stomach, because there's no room for it to be anywhere else. I felt mine do the same; that split second of pressure against my tip nearly sending me over the edge on the spot, but now I can feel him… me… all around it. The skin of our abdomens cocoons my sensitive flesh, and coupled with his velvety hardness rutting against me… and his arms holding me… _Fuck. _

"You taste so good," he murmurs against my throat after he has licked at my skin. I stretch my neck to the side and he continues to lave me, but he still has my hands held tight. "Every bit of you tastes and feels so good." His tongue swipes a long line from my Adam's apple to my ear, at the same time as he punctuates the move with a sharp thrust of his hips.

I moan.

"You like that, Jazz?"

"God, yes… yes."

I feel my earlobe in his teeth. He bites gently and then drags his mouth away, pulling the skin with him as he goes. Even the slight pinch of his teeth on the edge of my lobe turns me on… so much.

"Taste so good… so good…" he mutters as his lips kiss across my shoulder; again I feel his teeth. When I sigh, he thrusts his pelvis again.

_Edward!_

I know I don't say that aloud, well I don't think I do, but when he leans back and looks into my face, it doesn't matter; he seems to know without words.

He uses his arms and body to turn me around, backing me over to the bed. He's not kissing me now, just gazing into my eyes. It's intense… erotic.

As soon as my legs meet the mattress I sit down. He quickly lets go of my arms and it enables me to shuffle back onto the bed. He doesn't follow me, he just stands there and watches, that intense green stare of his burning my body. I can feel his eyes as they roam over me. It's as if they're fingers, lightly caressing my skin. I'm not surprised when goose bumps break out over me; the result of his stare and the cool air against my still damp body, but they make me _need _more. My hand reaches down and grasps my cock, stroking it firmly as we watch each other. His eyes are immediately drawn there, watching what I'm doing, and then he reaches for his own erection. I can see how tightly he grips, it would be almost painful, but he needs it; I know, I need it too.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." His eyes roam my body as an accompaniment to his words. I smile.

He lets go of himself and moves to kneel on the edge of the bed between my feet. My cock is still in my hand, but I've stopped stroking as I concentrate on watching what he's doing.

His hand reaches down and takes hold of my ankle, lifting my leg so that he can kiss across the skin of my foot. It feels so good, slightly ticklish. No one has ever kissed my foot before. I've never wanted anyone to.

After a few moments of gentle attention to my foot and ankle, he moves to lick across the tops of my toes. This does tickle, and I must make some sound because his eyes move to watch me, but he doesn't stop with his tongue, and it begins to now not only lick across, but also push between my sensitive digits.

He smiles.

_Oh, Edward._

He takes my little toe into his mouth, sucking on it gently, laving it with his tongue. It feels so good.

Then he sucks each other toe briefly into his mouth, spending a few moments doing the same thing.

_Oh, Edward._

His eyes alternate between looking into mine, watching my hand on my cock, and closing as he seems to be getting pleasure from what he's doing.

When he takes my big toe and its neighbor into his mouth together and sucks harder than before, in and out, in and out, my hand starts to move again on my dick, mirroring his motions.

His eyes are locked with mine.

He finally stops sucking and places a few more kisses and drags of his tongue across the flesh of my arch, and then he reverently places my foot back down. My skin is tingling. It was sublime; I've never felt anything like it.

He smiles and then looks to my other foot, reaching down and picking it up with the same admiration he'd shown the first.

Kisses.

Licks.

Sucks.

_Oh, Edward._

He takes my big toe and begins to suck it. He's really getting into it this time. It's nearly like he's blowing my toe. It's so fucking erotic. My hand mirrors his movements, just enough… not too much. His eyes that have been locked on mine close, and I watch as he takes his own cock in his free hand and begins to pump.

"Oh, Edward."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always.<em>


	30. Chapter 30

_Saturday, 12:45 am_

I alternately watch his mouth on my foot and his hand on his cock. His expression is sublime; his eyes are glazed, the pupils dilated. I slow my hand, aware of how close I'm getting to totally losing it. And as this all happens his words still ring in my ears:

'_I'm going to make love to you.'_

I remind myself again that it's such a common phrase, that they're such simple words, so often said in the heat of the moment, but they give me hope. Hope that he's beginning to feel what I'm feeling. That this connection between us is as strong for him as it is for me.

My musings have allowed me to drift away into my own little world, and it's only when he places my second foot back on the bed and begins to trail kisses up my leg and along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh that I'm brought back to the moment.

He pauses just below my groin and looks up at me. He smiles. I melt just a little bit more.

"You smell so good," he says before resting his nose next to my balls and breathing in deeply, then he drags his tongue lightly over my sac and along my length. He doesn't linger. Instead he continues the light caresses with his tongue up and over my stomach, dipping quickly into my navel as he passes, and then across my abs, pausing briefly at a mole on my left side to let his tongue linger just a little bit longer there.

"Fuck, Edward."

He looks up through his lashes and smiles again. Does he have any idea what that does to me?

"I've already told you there'll be no fucking involved this time. I'm going to give your body every bit of attention it deserves."

I sigh.

His tongue is back to making its way up my body. He traces the line of my pecs, causing me to wiggle when he gets close to my side, but he doesn't stop until he gets to my nipple, pulling it gently between his teeth. My hands find his hair, combing into the full mess on his head. I hold him there.

He bites, sucks, licks.

I moan, sigh, pant.

"Edward…"

His head pushes against my hold and I allow him to move, but it's just across my chest, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake.

I can't help but close my eyes as he repeats his movements, licking and biting my other sensitive nipple.

"Edward…"

I'm sure I feel his lips curl into a smile against my skin.

Is it moments or minutes later that he begins to move again?

His tongue and lips lave upward, across my collarbones, over my shoulders. He sucks at my neck, and then bites my lobe—again.

Fuck, I like that!

He's at my jaw now, and the feel of his wet but textured tongue moving over my stubble is incredibly erotic, but I need to taste his mouth. I pull his head to mine.

As our lips meet I'm thrown headfirst into an utter sense of bliss. This is all I want everyday for forever. His taste, his feel… everything about him is my ambrosia.

I suck his tongue into my mouth and then his bottom lip. Our lips meet again and again in a perfect dance. I try desperately to get enough air through my nose, but eventually it's not enough and I break the connection, panting, eager to refill my lungs so I can go again.

"Slow down, Jazz." I can hear the smile in his words. "We have all the time in the world."

"But it's not enough." I sound a bit frantic. "I need you… Edward, I need you now."

Just like earlier when I begged him to be inside me, even though we had just fucked, I feel this all-encompassing need to have him again.

I begin to kiss his face; my hands are still in his hair, holding him close, and as soon as my lungs have rested I meet his mouth again, kissing him with every bit of the passion I'm feeling.

His body has settled over mine, and the hands that had him hovering over me are now pushed into my hair and he's supporting his weight on his elbows. I love the feel of him above me. We fit perfectly. Nowhere more so than our cocks, which are still hard and locked tight between our bodies.

"Jasper, jeez," he says when we break for that insidious requirement—air. "I wanted to take my time… I wanted—"

I cut him off. "Don't need all that…just need you inside me."

His eyes become feral and he bruises my lips in a kiss so desperate I'm left in awe, and then he pushes away from me, moving toward my side table, pulling open the drawers in a frenzy. "Where are they?" he demands.

"Here… other side." I have already moved to fetch the lube and a condom. I throw the packet at him as I pump a generous amount of lube into my palm and lie back down, immediately opening my legs and reaching down to push a couple of fingers into my eager hole, pumping them in and out to ready myself. He watches me as he rolls the rubber onto his cock and takes an audible gulp.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks, his eyes finding mine. I don't answer the question because I understand exactly what he means. It's something I don't quite understand myself.

His eyes move back to my ass, they are hungry… needy… and his hand moves to his cock pumping it twice before moving his body over mine. I'm impressed by his strength as he supports himself with one arm, leaning down to kiss me again. I grasp his ass and pull him down until I feel his cock hard against me.

_Yes!_

* * *

><p><em>;)<em>


	31. Chapter 31

**_Edward_**

_Saturday, 12:45 am_

Something happened here tonight.

Straddled over him on the couch, when he _demanded_ that I be inside him… I knew even then that it would never be just a simple fuck between us.

How everything you think you 'know' can change so quickly over the span of just a few days boggles my mind. I know enough about myself to realize how fucked up I've been over the last year or so. How much of a prick I've been, especially to him.

When he introduced me to that crazy looking ginger cat of his and said I was the 'most gorgeous man he'd ever met', well… I nearly didn't believe him. Why would I? But one look into his blue eyes confirmed his words. He really thinks that about me. Me, the man who'd made his life what I can only guess was a living nightmare since I'd been working for him.

Never again would I allow that to happen.

And now… now, he lies here in front of me—more than just his body exposed.

I told him I was going to make love to him.

With any other person on any other day I wouldn't even have contemplated making such a 'veiled' declaration. Fuck, if someone had made it to me I'd have run for the hills—fast. I'm not in love with Jasper—yet—but I want to touch and revere every part of his body. Maybe 'make love' was a poor choice of words, but it's as close to what I'm feeling as I could get. This is more to me than just sex.

I watch him as I caress his foot and suck his toe, feeling my own cock jump at the sight of him stroking himself. I can't resist touching myself as well; I need to, just for a moment. The sensation is intense and my eyes close. I can't help it. I've never been very big on feet, but these aren't just 'feet', they're his feet; they're a part of him.

"Oh, Edward." His words bring me back to the moment and I immediately look to his face; every expression tells me so much.

I begin to kiss up his body, taking my time, venerating over every inch of skin. A small mole on his side transfixes me, I'm not sure why, but it suddenly doesn't matter any more when I hear, "Fuck, Edward."

I look up at him to find him watching me.

"I've already told you there'll be no fucking involved this time. I'm going to give your body every bit of attention it deserves."

His sigh as I begin my ascent up his body excites me so much. He's so responsive—it's incredible.

"Edward…"

His hands are locked into my hair, but he doesn't restrict me.

"Edward…"

_Damn!_

He bucks his hips slightly when I bite on the pad of his ear; he likes this repeated action.

As I'm licking slowly over his stubble, he stops me and pulls me to his mouth. His kiss is nearly violent as he sucks at my tongue and my lips, but it's perfect at the same time. So many things are new with this man, but I like them all.

He pulls away panting and I take the reprieve to say, "Slow down, Jazz, we have all the time in the world."

He's not having a bar of it. "But it's not enough. I need you… Edward, I need you now."

He begins to kiss my face… over and over, then my lips. I can feel him rock-hard against my own erection.

"Jasper, jeez. I wanted to take my time… I wanted—"

He doesn't allow me to finish. "Don't need all that…just need you inside me."

His desperation is my undoing. Fuck making love. I need him just as much.

I kiss him hard, one final time, and then crawl to his bedside table, pulling open each drawer. I can't find them. "Where are they?" I can hear the frustration in my voice and look to find him already at the other table with the stuff in hand. He says something but I don't quite catch it, but it doesn't matter as he throws a condom at me.

As he lies back down I quickly scoot between his splayed legs, kneeling on my haunches as I attempt to roll on the condom. I find the task difficult, because all I can concentrate on is watching him fuck himself with his fingers as he preps his perfect ass.

"What are you doing to me?" I say for the second time tonight, seeking his face. This man owns me in a way my aroused mind just can't quite process just yet; all I know is my need, not the reasons.

His fingers are still inside him and they draw my attention again. _Fuck! _I need to touch him now.

Not letting go of my dick, I move over him, supporting myself with my free arm as I line up my body along his. Kissing him is a treat but when I feel his hands on my butt and then the pressure of him pushing me down, I know there is only one thing I need to be doing.

I push against his hole slowly as I stare into his eyes. Watching his face as I push into him is the best thing I've ever experienced. If I thought being inside him before was good, then this is sublime.

Every emotion plays across his face as I enter him again and again. And even though we may be needy, even desperate for each other, this is as close to making love as I have ever come.

I feel his legs as they wrap around me, holding me close. It stops me from being able to thrust deeply, but it is somehow even more perfect.

We're as intimate as two people can be when we finally peak together, many glorious minutes later.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always to my extremely loyal and supportive readers. You all rock my world. Please tell me what you thought of Edward's POV; I'd really appreciate it.<em>


	32. Chapter 32

_Saturday, 8:45 am_

"Sebs," I silently mouth at my ridiculous cat as he jumps across our heads, from pillow to pillow, trying to vie for my attention. Realizing that Sebastian doesn't understand why I can't just tend to his whims as I would normally do, I swat at him carefully to move him off the bed. I do my best not to disturb the man sleeping in my arms; I don't want to leave him just yet.

_Edward_.

In the light of day he really is here, asleep and peaceful in my arms.

We fell asleep quickly after our last session of 'love making'. I'm quite content to call it that now; it certainly transcended anything I've ever experienced before.

"Sebs!" I insist quietly, scowling at him, willing him to understand that I need him to back off. If he wakes Edward I will really be pissed. Unfortunately, I know there is only one solution; I need to get up and deal with him.

As carefully as I possibly can, I lift my arm from Edward's waist and untangle our legs. He grumbles something and then mutters, "Jasper." My heart explodes at the word, and leaning in I kiss his cheek gently; his hand comes up and he rubs at his skin. I wait, as still as I possibly can, until his breathing evens out again and then I climb out of bed. I pause in my steps, absorbed with watching him, fascinated by the sheet and how it drapes across his pale skin, captivated by his hair that is a bright mess against the hotel-white sheets; my feet are locked to the floor, unable to step away. He's my very own work of art to covet and admire; I can't tear my eyes away from him, not even to feed Sebastian.

"Reow."

But leave the room I must, Sebs is not going to let me get away with anything.

I hurry downstairs, pulling my robe from behind the door as I leave the room. Sebs is waiting in the kitchen, looking expectantly at his food cupboard. There is certainly no fooling him; he knows exactly what he wants. I place his food on the floor, smiling as he begins eating with gusto, then pour myself a glass of water, drinking it quickly before making a detour to the downstairs bathroom, giving Edward a chance to sleep peacefully for as long as possible.

After making my way back upstairs I enter the bedroom, closing the door behind me; Sebastian won't be disturbing us again. I stand at the foot of my bed for just a few minutes, watching him, allowing my brain to process that he _is_ in fact there, fast asleep, and absolutely fucking perfect.

Shaking my head at the image, still more than a little in awe of him, I discard my robe and carefully climb back in behind him, relinking my leg over his, and repositioning my arm over his trim waist.

He's so warm.

We lie there that way for about another half hour until he begins to wake. My heart starts to beat faster, partly with excitement and partly with fear, hoping to hell that he doesn't regret what happened between us last night.

His body certainly seems happy enough with where it is. As he stretches in my arms I can't help but be aware of his morning erection against my wrist.

_Ungh!_

"Mornin', beautiful," I whisper, feeling brave all of a sudden, and then I kiss his shoulder, allowing my curls to caress his skin.

His eyes open and he doesn't pull away, in fact, he rolls over; his green eyes seem to smile at me.

"Mornin' to you, too, Jasper."

Nothing more is said for the next few minutes, we just watch each other. But at no point does it seem uncomfortable. The connection that sparked between us firstly on Thursday at the bar, and then again yesterday, is still there. Even without words it is strong… tangible.

He's the one to break the silence. "I'm actually in your bed, aren't I?"

I smile and lift my hand to cup his cheek. "Yeah, you are." His eyes close for a moment and his face seems to push against my hand, but then they open again.

He smiles back.

"Yeah, I am."

I'm hesitant to ask, even though his smile and closeness to me have already answered my question, but I do, needing the reassurance. "Is that okay?"

He doesn't answer immediately, but he doesn't shy away either. Our eyes are still locked together and I feel his hand cover mine on his face rather than see it move there, so absorbed am I in his gaze.

"It really is." He smiles again. "It really is."

He turns his head and kisses my palm, then moves his hand away from mine, threading his fingers instead into my hair and pulling my face to meet his. Our kiss is sweet, languorous and perfect, and goes on and on. It doesn't take long though for our passion to escalate. It also doesn't take long for me to roll onto him and for Edward to realize he has a very full bladder.

"Jazz, I'm sorry but can you give me a few minutes?"

He looks pained and I just laugh. "I'll be waiting." I roll off him and pull back the sheet, watching with apt fascination as both him and his delectable derrière make their way to the bathroom.

Only moments later he returns; he has a cheeky grin on his face as he climbs over me and begins to nuzzle my neck. "You've been holding out on me, Jazz."

"Hmmm?"

He tsks and adds, "Minty fresh breath. Fancy brushing your teeth—no fair."

I laugh. "Just mouthwash I'm afraid. I didn't want to wake you, so I used the downstairs bathroom after I fed Sebastian; I only have mouthwash down—"

The look on his face stops my words.

"Edward, is everything okay?"

"Oh, fuck!"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always for reading. What has Edward in a tizzy? Any ideas?<em>

_And... we have passed the end of Insomnia—finally! Did you all recognise the moment when Edward said Jasper's name and their identities were finally revealed? Hope so._


	33. Chapter 33

_Saturday, 9:40 am_

'_Oh, fuck!' _What the hell does that mean?

Scrambling out of bed, and nearly falling over his feet, he looks around frantically, searching for his clothes. At least I assume he is.

"Ed? What the hell's going on?"

"Jacob." He pauses for a moment and looks at me; my heart skips a beat. "I forgot all about him. Oh, shit, Jasper. I've got to get home."

"Ed, you're talking in riddles, what do you mean?"

I watch as he pushes his hands desperately into his hair, gripping it in his fists.

"Jacob… I… I forgot about him. He'll be hungry… and… _fuck!_" His agitation is worrying me now. I stand up and move close to him, pulling his hands from his hair and holding them in mine.

"Ed, calm down." His eyes meet mine. "Your clothes are downstairs… remember?"

This causes him to smile. "Yeah, I remember." He takes a huge breath and closes his eyes. I feel his thumb rub across my palm. "I remember everything. What I forgot is my dog. I need to go home, Jazz. He's on medication and he missed last night's dose and—"

I hear the word 'dog' and every fear I held evaporates. A fucking dog!

"Let me take you home." His sigh is one of relief. "C'mon, I'll lend you some clothes; we can get dressed and you can take me to meet Jacob."

"Are you sure? I don't want to put you out, I—"

"I'm so very sure." With our hands still linked, I pull him close and kiss him softly. "Let's get dressed."

Quickly walking into my wardrobe, I find underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt that will fit him, grabbing some things for myself as well. When I return to the bedroom, he's sitting on the edge of the bed, looking not quite as frantic, but definitely still stressed.

"These should fit," I pronounce, handing him the clothes; he takes them and we quickly get dressed.

We're just about to walk out into the hall, when he takes my hand and stops me. "Thanks, Jazz, for everything."

"You don't have to thank me, Ed, I'm happy to do it."

I can't resist kissing him, which I do, and then I keep a hold of his hand and lead him downstairs.

When he bends to retrieve his clothes from the entry I stop him. "How about we do that later?"

"Oh… okay, but I can get them now." I watch his eyes as they scan the mess that is my foyer; there are clothes strewn everywhere and it causes me to laugh.

"Oh, you could, but then you wouldn't have an excuse to come back later."

He gives me the first genuine smile to have graced his face since he remembered his dog. "I hope I won't need an excuse, Jazz."

This makes me smile too. "No." I squeeze his hands. "No, you'll never need an excuse to be welcome in my house."

"Thank you," he mouths and then he's pulling me into his arms and holding me tightly. I feel him say the words again against my neck.

"Let's go." I spot my keys discarded on the marble floor and bend to pick them up. "Is there anything you need before we go?"

"Well, considering I don't need _excuses_ to come back, let me pick all this up; it'll only take a moment. I need to find my keys to get into my place anyway."

He begins collecting his things. I can only hope all of those smiles of his are because of the memories each discarded piece gives him. I know that's what watching him pick them up is doing to me—memory after delicious memory.

I snap out of my musings and pick up his briefcase and coat. He seems to have everything else in his arms, so I lead him through the kitchen and into the garage, passing Sebs sprawled along the kitchen bench on our way.

"Get off," I chastise. Of course he doesn't move, and knowing he'll get straight back up as soon as I'm gone, I choose not to fight with him.

Edward laughs behind me and I turn in time to see him rub along Sebastian's back. "Hi, fella," he says, earning him an opened eye in reply.

I can't help laughing. "Seems you've been given approval."

"Shit, I _am _honored."

"You'd better believe it. He has very discerning tastes."

"Is that right?"

"Mmm hmm, just like his owner." I wink and turn back for the door, hearing him chuckle behind me.

Edward knows the area between our houses well; it seems he jogs around here regularly, and it only takes us about fifteen minutes to get to his house. It's a modern townhouse, built only five years before, and he tells me the small courtyard out back was the deciding factor when he bought it. He couldn't resist, knowing Jacob would have a yard to go out into while he was at work. I immediately fall for him a bit harder. I had wondered about having a dog locked in the house all day—a cat is one thing—but knowing this about him, that he would make such an important decision based on a pet, well… it says a lot about the man.

I park my car on the street in front of his door. I can't even believe I don't know whether or not he owns a car, not that it matters, but… I'm just so anxious to learn everything about him. As I turn the key off, he is already opening the door and rushing out, anxious I'm sure to see if Jacob is okay. I meet him on the stoop as he fishes for his keys and then we are at the door. I hear a high pitched bark from inside just as he pushes the door open and we're met by a wagging tail and a very excited little Jack Russell terrier.

* * *

><p><em>And what do you all think of Jacob's appearance? Of course he had to be a dog, but did you expect him to be 'that' type of dog. LOL. I couldn't resist!<em>


	34. Chapter 34

_Saturday, 10:25 am_

"Jakey, calm down," Edward says to the excited dog at his feet. Jacob is bouncing up and down, barking enthusiastically; undoubtedly happy to have his master home. He may have missed both dinner and breakfast, but he doesn't seem any worse for it—this is clearly one very pampered pooch.

I let them have their moment. Jacob doesn't even give me a second glance, so happy is he to see Edward. He certainly doesn't _seem _sick, but I've had dogs before and I know what they're like. A bit of excitement usually overrides injuries and ailments.

Edward obviously realizes that Jacob's excitement may not be good for him, and he chastises the dog sternly. "Jacob. Sit." He does. But his little tail continues to wag and I can't help but smile. He sure is a cute little critter.

I step in through the door and my movement gets Jacob's attention. So much for sitting. He's immediately up and at my feet, sniffing me and jumping around again, wagging his tail.

"Hey, little fella," I say, bending down to rub his head. He barks at me, but it isn't aggressive, it's more like 'hello'.

I hear Edward chuckle behind me. "C'mon, you two. You can get to know each other in the kitchen." The door closes and he begins to walk away, Jacob right on his heels, yapping excitedly, and Edward talking to him as if he's a human—it's incredibly endearing.

Edward's kitchen is warm and inviting—dark wood cabinetry and black granite countertops. In the corner is a cute set-up consisting of a wicker dog bed with a black and white check mattress. Matching food and water bowls sit neatly on the floor next to it—of course they're empty. Jacob's jumping up and down at Edward's feet as he pulls a new bowl from a cupboard and fills it generously with food, then walks and replaces the empty bowl, bringing it back and placing it in the dishwasher.

"You have quite the system going on there," I say with a chuckle.

"Ha, I saw that cat of yours; you're as whipped as I am."

It's true, I am. I walk over and pick up the empty water bowl, bringing it to the sink and filling it from the faucet. "Thanks, Jazz," I hear as I take it back and place it on the floor for Jacob who's still eating ravenously.

I just look at him and smile, then turn and look out the glass door into his small yard. It's a beautiful sunny morning and I enjoy the view of his garden. It's sparsely planted but neat, with a table and barbecue on the deck, and a couple of dog toys on the grass.

"Nice place," I comment.

"It is, I'm happy here."

I turn back and watch him as he places a tiny tablet in his palm and scoops a small spoon of peanut butter on top of it.

"And he's happy here." He nods toward Jacob on the floor. "Most of the time, anyway," he adds, raising his brow and shrugging. He kneels down on the floor next to his dog and pulls him away from his food, placing his outstretched palm under his nose. Jacob laps up the sweet treat quickly and then returns to the food in his bowl.

"What happened?"

"He got a tick." Edward stands and makes his way back behind the counter. "We were walking down near the river a couple weeks back. I didn't even think to look for a tick. Anyway, he got really lethargic… went off his food… So I made an appointment to take him to the vet." He laughs and I wonder what's funny about that, then he adds, "That was the night Rose and Emmett asked me to join the _three_ of you for pizza." Ah, so he remembers that. "I didn't know you were going, mind you, Rose told me the next day. I wonder what would have happened if I'd gone?" He grins. Hmm, my mind wanders for a moment. "So, I got home… Jakey wasn't very good. I got him to the vet just in time. Turned out to be Lyme disease, a bacterium transmitted from the tick…" He looks sad as he continues; I can tell the dog is important to him. "It was a bit touch and go for a few days, but he's doing really well now, as you can see."

"He sure looks happy enough."

"He is. He's a great little dog." We watch 'Jakey' as he finishes his breakfast and then immediately goes outside. "I was more of a prick than usual there for a few days… I'm really sorry, Jazz, I—"

"Don't." I stop him and walk over to him. "Let's not go backward, Ed. What's the point?"

"I just really am sorry. I want you to know that."

"Okay, I'll accept your apology, but this is the last time you give it to me." I move in close to him, placing my hands on his hips and turning him toward me. "Okay?"

"Okay."

His smile is coy but dazzling. Fuck, he is so damned beautiful.

I pull him in close and place my lips close to his ear. "I really need to kiss you right now." My words are a whispered breath.

"Please."

Our mouths meet along with our bodies. He's delicious. Even without brushed teeth, he is everything I want. I don't care that in our rush this morning neither of us has cared about menial things like that. We're raw and needy and it turns me on more than I can believe.

I hear something drop on the floor, but only look to the spot when a small bark gains our attention. It's Jacob with his ball, and he's looking expectantly at me.

"I think you're on," Edward says. "I'll make the coffee."

I squeeze his waist and then bend for the ball, following Jacob to the back door.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always. <em>


	35. Chapter 35

_Saturday, 11:45 am_

It only occurs to me, after I've thrown the ball and Jacob has retrieved it more times than I can count, how hungry I am, when I get a whiff of the most delicious smelling scent. I turn and look to the door and see Edward coming through, juggling a tray with cups and a plate of what looks, at this distance, to be grilled cheese.

"And what do we have here?" I take a few steps toward him.

"If you're as famished as I am, I thought you might appreciate a little sustenance." There's a hint of flirtation to his tone.

"Oh, I'm definitely famished," I reply, consciously omitting the words 'for you'. I watch him as he walks, knowing I should go and offer to carry the tray, but I can't move. Why am I only now just realizing how fucking hot he looks in my jeans? They fit him perfectly. The faded, well-worn denim clings to him in the best way, highlighting the muscles of his legs with every step; they sit low on his hips, the band of my loaned Calvins peeking above, and I'm not sure if I chose intentionally or not, but the tee I gave him is one I haven't worn in ages. I vaguely remember shrinking it in the dryer, and the hem just skims the jeans' waistband, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of skin with each step he takes. Damn!

I swallow hard.

"Hope I've made enough, if you're _that_ hungry," he teases. Bastard. He knows exactly what he's doing to me.

I've obviously taken steps toward him—not that I recall them—because he bends and places the tray on the table we are now standing next to, then reaches out to push a few curls behind my ear. My eyes close to the sensation but as soon as I smell him—and I do, even above the delicious smell of melted cheese—I take hold of the tee in my fists and pull him to me, crushing my mouth against his and kissing him with all that I have. I feel a hand on my lower back, and a hand behind my neck, anchoring me to him; we kiss this way for seconds… minutes… once again, I don't know. I'm utterly lost to him. It is only a persistent bark that at first seems far away, but then oh-so-close, that causes us to pull apart. I look down to see Jacob, ball again dropped at my feet, looking expectantly up at us, and I laugh. Edward does too, but we continue to cling to each other, foreheads together, until my stomach gives me away, letting out a hungry growl.

"Thought that might be the case," Edward says. "Let's eat. Then we can continue this." He pulls on my ass, pushing my hips into his body, leaving no doubt in my mind as to his intention.

"I'm game if you are." I step away and pull out a chair.

"You have no idea."

Really? I'd been thinking we're on pretty similar wavelengths. "You think?"

"Okay… we're both beyond horny. Now let's eat so we can get to the good stuff."

We both laugh and begin to eat. The sandwiches are sensational, as is the coffee—even if it is just filter. Maybe everything just tastes better around him?

"Mmm… good…" I mutter as I eat. "What is this cheese?"

"Not sure I should divulge all my secrets." He raises his brow cheekily at me.

I just shake my head and continue to eat, taking another two bites and a drink of coffee before I continue, "Well, it sure is good."

"Mustard and sour cream."

Hmmm? I look up, my mouth full.

"I grate my own cheddar cheese and then mix it with Dijon mustard and sour cream, salt, pepper. Spoon it on and that's it." He watches me as he speaks. "Plus, I use good sourdough bread."

Sure sounds simple enough. "Sensational."

"Thank you." He seems to like the compliment.

The sandwiches gone, I sit back in my chair, stretching my legs, and continue to drink my coffee. We don't say much, just watch each other, enjoying the company and the sunshine. Jacob moves from Edward to me, picking up his ball and dropping it at our feet alternately. Edward occasionally bends down and rubs his head, but doesn't heed to his demands, explaining to me that he needs to calm down now; the vet would prefer he keep as quiet as possible for a few weeks, which in itself will be a difficult task; he's an active little dog.

"Thanks for the meal," I say. "I kind of feel a bit guilty that I didn't feed you at my house."

This causes a raucous bout of laughter to erupt from him. "And when exactly would you have done that, and more precisely, what would you have given up to do so?"

"I know… I'm being ridiculous."

"Yes, you are," he continues. "Besides… there was at least one serve of _protein_ for both of us involved."

_Fucking hell! _I can't seem to form words.

"C'mon. Let's pack this up and then I'll give you a tour."

_Yes, please._

We leave Jacob outside, although he can come and go as he pleases through his pet-door, and take the dirty dishes into the kitchen. It's a simple task of just putting them in the dishwasher—Edward must've already tidied up what he used to cook with earlier—and we're ready to go.

"Kitchen," he says, doing a 'Price is Right' hostess arm movement, complete with turn of hand; I hold in a laugh. "Through to the laundry and garage." I follow him, surprised to find there is a garage; he explains the entry is at the back of the property, and even more surprised when he opens the door and I see a quick gleam of red.

"Hang on, what's that?" I query.

He smiles and opens the door.

* * *

><p><em>What is behind the door? Guesses are extremely welcome.<em>

_I was so excited yesterday to see Early Bird rec'd in 'The Lemon Report' on the _Perv Pack Smut Shack._ Thanks so much pippapear (aka Emmy). You made my day._


	36. Chapter 36

_Saturday, 12:25 pm_

He hesitates briefly before walking farther into the room and turning on the light.

I can't believe my eyes. It's a damned Ducati—in my favorite color: red. And if I'm not mistaken, at first glance it seems to be a 2009 848. _Very nice._

"Wow!" I exclaim, partly because of the beautiful piece of machinery in front of me, but mostly because Edward owns a motorcycle.

"You like?" I can sense his pride in owning a bike like this.

"Yeah. A lot." I walk to it, looking over it in detail, and run my hand lovingly over the fuel tank and seat. "It's beautiful, Ed. Have you had it long?"

"I bought it new, mid-2009." He smiles as he looks from it to me. "I won't have it much longer though."

"Really? Why?"

He stalks over to me and whispers, "I'm trading up."

Could he mean? "Please tell me, you're getting a 1199 Panigale to replace it." My heart is actually pounding at the thought. I love bikes—I mean, I really _love_ bikes—but I'm surprised by how turned on I am at the thought of him owning one of those. Of him riding one of those. Of him fucking me on… over… in front of, one of those. These thoughts override the fact that he's into bikes… Can this guy get any more perfect?

"Yes." His voice is a low seductive growl. And I am hard as a rock in my jeans.

"Fuck."

"You like the thought of that, Jazz."

"God, yes."

I feel his hand push into my hair and hold it out of the way and then the wet slick of his tongue as it wipes across the back of my neck.

"I thought you might."

Interesting. He must have noticed my BMW when we got in the car earlier. "Did you see my bike at the house earlier?"

He laughs. "Actually, no, I didn't. I'll admit my mind was elsewhere." And I know it was; he was so worried. Christ, he didn't even comment on my car, and no one, male or female, ever gets into my car without commenting on it. But his tone leads me to believe he is well aware I own a bike as well.

"So how—"

"Maybe I haven't been as closed off to you as I thought I was, Jazz." He must recognize my confusion. "I'm only realizing now that I knew you had a bike. I hear things. I've seen it in your parking space." His lips are so close to my ear; he doesn't need to speak loudly, but every word is like a scream. "I even stopped a moment to look it over the first time I saw it. How could I not appreciate it—I do love a hot ride."

"Oh." Is he doing this intentionally?

"I haven't seen you ride it though… Can't wait for that." I turn in his arms. "To see you in black leather after you've just taken your helmet off… your curls would be damp and you'd look so sexy." His lips meet my neck, and nibble their way to my ear, and he continues, "It's a sexy bike, Jazz. The blue reminds me a bit of your eyes." His words are so seductive. He's describing my motorbike, the BMW K1300S I bought last year, but every word is so much more.

I slam my mouth against his, the contact so severe that he stumbles backward and has to take a step, but he stands his ground and we continue to kiss. I can feel his body at every point we are connected. Our hands grasp at each other; mine: one palm-flat against his lower back, the other, pistol gripped around his jaw; his: one clamped on my ass, the other holding my bicep. We are nearly manic in our movements; the tension of this morning coupled with our immense desire for each other an absolute driving force.

My hands leave his back and face and grip the hem of his tight t-shirt and begin to lift. Understanding what I'm doing he does the same to me. We don't stop kissing until it is evident we are tangled, and only then for the quick moment it takes to move away enough to pull our own shirts off.

His chest is like a beacon; I need to touch it, lick it… fuck, I don't know. I just know we are too far apart. I grab the waist of his jeans and pull him to me, my lips immediately meeting his throat and kissing all over it. A combination of pecks and sucks has him voicing his pleasure.

"Jasper… Don't stop." I can feel his voice box vibrating under his Adam's apple and linger there. Letting go of his jeans, I trail my hands up his body until they meet his chest and I rub my thumbs purposefully over his nipples as I kiss my way to meet them. "Jasper, Jasper," he chants; my name like a red flag to a bull, as I lick and suck at his chest. I want him so badly—every part of him.

As I move lower my tongue delves into every valley of his body. His stomach is tensed and his muscles are tight; he is fucking sensational. As I drop to my knees, I make sure to pull the loose buttons of his fly open as I go. Unlike yesterday, there is no pretense here this time. I hook my fingers into his briefs and drag them both down quickly. He springs free as I lift over his cock, nearly hitting me in the face. _Yes!_

He kicks the clothing off as soon as it hits his ankles and stands legs splayed and ready; his fingers immediately weaving into my hair.

I look up at him through my lashes, taking him firmly in hand, and then smile, before plunging my mouth around and down his length.

"Fuck," he screams.

* * *

><p><em>Hope there wasn't too much 'techspeak' there for you. Personally, I find the thought of these two having a mutual interest, especially one that involves expensive European motorbikes, very sexy.<em>

__Well done to those who guessed a bike was behind the garage door. You were obviously in my head with me. Those that picked a car, alas not this time, but you may have noticed Jasper's thoughts mention one. Wonder what it is?__

_Check out my Tumblr—cocoalvinoz—for pics of the bikes._


	37. Chapter 37

_Saturday, 12:45 pm_

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cries out as my head bobs back and forth on his cock. His hands grip my hair tightly, holding me to him but not commanding me. He seems happy enough to let me lead the show—for now. "Ahh… Jesus. Ahh… Fuck."

I chance another glance up, but don't stop what I'm doing. I can only see his face on the out-stroke; his gaze is wild as he looks down at me.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock." I feel his hands begin to direct me slightly. "Do you have—" His words are punctuated by pauses as he pants for breath. "Fuck. Oh fuck, Jazz." One hand still holds my hair in a tight grip and the other has moved to splay across my cheek and ear. "You look so fucking— So fuck— Ungh."

I notice his hips start to move and knowing exactly what his body is craving, I hold my mouth at the head of his cock, away from his body. I pull in my cheeks, suctioning my lips on his heated flesh and just wait. It only takes him a moment to realize what I am offering him.

I feel the grip on my hair tighten and he pulls my head back a fraction, causing me to look up at him—I don't release his cock from my mouth.

"You want me to fuck your mouth, Jazz?" I nod, just a bit. I watch as his eyes close and he breathes deeply. "Oh, baby. Yes. Yes."

He starts to move, starting slowly… gently. He seems determined to take it easy on me, but I don't want that from him. I want him to take pleasure in everything I can give him. I want him to be so turned on that he loses control.

I bring my hands up to his bare ass and show him what _I _want. I pull him into me, relaxing my muscles as the crown of his cock pushes across my tongue and into my throat. Moaning around him, I look up again, attempting a smile.

"Fuck, Jazz," he repeats. He thrusts get harder… faster. "Jesus. You feel so… so fucking good, baby."

The feel of my lips sliding along his slick length have me reaching down to free my own erection from its prison. _Yes! _That feels so much better, but so much worse at the same time. Without the confines of my jeans there is no friction, and I miss it immediately. Needing something, I grip myself tightly and stroke myself to match him. It's a bit dry, but I don't care—I need the pressure desperately.

My other hand reaches up to cup his sack and I fondle him gently, the movement of his thrusts enough to keep me massaging him.

"Fuck— Fuck— Fuck, Jazz. Gonna… gonna come. Oh… Jesus Christ."

His semen begins to spurt into my mouth and I swallow, as best I can, considering. The hand in my hair continues to grip me tightly, but he is only jerking erratically into my mouth now, his body seized by his orgasm; my lips have loosened and my tongue laps at his silken skin as I swallow around him.

"Oh, God," he pants. I feel the last few spurts of his cum hit the back of my tongue but I don't swallow them, intentionally keeping some of him in my mouth as he slowly pulls out of me.

I lean back—I'm still stroking myself slowly as my eyes zero in on his.

His face is blushed the most delicious pink, his nostrils flare, and I can see his chest rising and falling with each panting breath. His head is shaking the tiniest bit from side to side, as if he can't believe that just happened. And then I open my mouth and run my tongue seductively along my lips, allowing the small amount of his spunk that I have kept in my mouth to dress my lips.

"Oh. My. God," he declares. He still has one hand in my hair and he doesn't release it, but he brings his other hand to my mouth and grazes along my bottom lip with his thumb. "That is seriously the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen."

I just smile.

Reaching up with the hand that isn't holding my cock, which I am yet to let go of, I grasp his forearm and pull him down to me. He drops to his knees in front of me. Before I get a chance to swallow what is left of him in my mouth, his lips meet mine. I feel his tongue push across my lips and then into my mouth, tasting himself—he moans.

Now _that_ is the fucking hottest thing _I _have ever seen.

He pulls back and looks down to my groin, then reaching down he covers my hand with his, mirroring my gentle strokes.

"I'm tempted to suck you, baby." He leans in and latches his lips to my neck. I can feel the skin bruising under his sucking kiss. "But not here." I know what he means; his increasingly firm grasp around my hand leaving no doubt that he isn't referring to my neck. "Even though, I must admit I like to see my mark on you." His free hand comes up to rub over the spot he has just pulled away from.

He leans close again, and I think he is going to kiss me, or suck on my skin again, but he moves close to my ear. His teeth nip at the lobe; the slight, more than gentle, pressure feels so fucking good. His lips are still surrounding me when he says, "But I think I'd rather you fuck me."

I pull back, earning my delicate skin a graze of his teeth, and look into his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

My hand has stilled.

"Absofuckinglutely."

"Should we go upstairs?"

"No. I think you can take me over _that_…"

* * *

><p><em>;)<em>


	38. Chapter 38

_Saturday, 1:00 pm_

_He wants me to fuck him over his bike? _

My eyes snap to the bike and then back to Edward, thanking every deity imaginable that I'm here in this moment with him, as my heart begins to stutter and my breath hitches.

Even with everything that has happened between us, I'm struggling to come to terms with Edward… with this connection between us. It seems too easy, too perfect, and my traitorous thoughts debate when the ball's going to drop, or when I'm going to wake up.

"Don't you want that, baby?" His tone seems teasing, but there's a hint of insecurity there, and I realize my reflection has taken time.

_Do I want that? _ More than I've ever wanted anything in my life. And that doesn't just mean the sex, as great as that is. I want him. So fucking much.

Without a shirt, I'm not sure where to grab him, but I grasp behind his neck and pull him down onto me. My lips tell him my answer as I pull my hand out from between our bodies allowing our cocks to rub together; allowing him to begin to harden again.

"I want that. I want you." His mouth seems to be everywhere, skimming lightly then with added pressure over my skin. "I want you so damned much."

"So take me."

I pull him into me as I slam my mouth yet again against his, and only when I have sated myself do I pull away and look into his eyes.

"Get up and lean over that seat now."

His answering smirk sends a shock of lightning to my cock, as a quick visual of him splayed against my foyer wall reminds me just how much he wants this and I realize—he likes to be led.

His long legs push up and he stands in front of me.

Naked.

Glorious.

Mine.

We have such a good system of give and take already, both seeming to know instinctively when to submit to the other. I want everything with him. I want to command, and I want to be commanded. It's never been like this before for me. I've always gone into any relationship with a more defined role, and generally it hasn't deviated from that—and I haven't cared. _They_ haven't meant enough to me for me to bother caring.

His eyes are heavy with desire, and from this angle his body seems to loom over mine.

I might still be watching him from the floor, but there's nothing submissive about my position.

"Now, Edward." I tell him as I stand, pushing my open jeans and briefs down my legs, but not before reaching into my pocket to remove the condom and lube I had put there before I left home. After last night there was no way in hell I was putting myself in a position to have to walk away from him when we were like this.

As I step out of my jeans, leaving them on the floor next to his a few feet from the bike, our eyes meet and I don't miss the knowing but silent chuckle that graces his face—and then he turns around and leans over.

_FUCK_!

Oh, Edward.

His elbows rest on the seat and his head hangs low over his shoulders. His feet are spread wide, and his legs… oh, Jesus, they seem to go on and on. They're long, lean, lightly muscled… perfect. But it's what they lead to that causes me pause. Bent at ninety degrees, his ass calls to me, like a siren. The flesh is tight over his taut glutes, but it does nothing to minimize the definition of his perfect muscles.

I take two steps and I'm next to him; without a word my hand reaches out and caresses his skin, running over each delectable globe slowly before traveling up his back, which arches into my touch.

Leaning over his prostrate body I get close to his ear, whispering, "You're so beautiful." I feel his skin prickle under my touch. "So, so beautiful." I know I said very similar words last night, but now, here in his house, over his treasured bike, they seem to mean more. "And you are mine."

I'm not sure it's possible but his head seems to slump at my words. I wonder for a split second if I've gone too far, but then his ass pushes back against my groin.

"Jazz, take me, baby." He pauses, as if his words are a struggle. "Please." The word is so soft that I caution myself whether I actually heard it. He was so wanton only minutes ago with his cock in my mouth, but now… oh, God, now.

I can't refuse him.

He's so greedy as he arches his back and rolls his hips as I ready him. Little whimpers and moans escape his mouth and I so desperately want to pull him up so that I can kiss him, but I also want to push him into the seat of the bike as I fuck him senseless over it.

He told me to fuck him, so that's what I'll do.

My cock lies in the crease of his ass, and I thrust my length against the slippery skin, teasing him, my fingers trailing delicate patterns all over his back and shoulders and threading into his hair. I pull back, grasp myself and push just my tip into him, over and over, until he cries, "Now. Now."

I take that as my cue and on the next push I am in him—all the way.

"Fuck." I'm not sure who said that.

I take purchase on his hips and drive myself into him, over and over, and when he goes to lift his head, I restrain him, holding him down at the neck with my hand.

The first signs of his orgasm surprise me, because he hasn't been touched, and it's all I need to join him.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	39. Chapter 39

_Sunday, 5:00 pm_

"Tomorrow's going to be interesting," Edward says, his words surprising me as he breaks the comfortable silence we've been enjoying. I continue to run my fingers through his soft hair as I sit and he reclines, his head resting in my lap, on the couch in his living room. Jacob is curled up at Edward's feet and I'd thought he was asleep, but he opens an eye to look inquisitively at his master.

It's not the first time I've thought about how our 'little bubble' will likely be affected when we return to the real world. I can't believe it's already Sunday afternoon—the unfortunate end to the best weekend of my life. Apart from me taking off for half an hour late yesterday afternoon, we've spent nearly every minute together.

Saturday afternoon was spent in his bed; the time filled with a mixture of intimate caresses and much needed naps. Knowing I needed to go home and take care of Sebastian, I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed, leaving Edward, to do so. He woke, reaching out to grasp me as I moved from his side and offered to go with me; I even considered it briefly, but his sleepy eyes had belied his offer, so kissing his temple and assuring him I'd be back before he even woke again, I left.

The Thai take-out I returned with, we ate in bed, and apart from a very indulgent bath that we shared the remainder of Saturday evening was spent there as well.

It wasn't overly late when we fell asleep, exhausted and absolutely sated, and I can still recall the feel of his lips exploring my back and waking me up this morning. I hadn't even moved, the sensation too utterly blissful, and it was Edward, his voice full of humor that brought me to full consciousness. "Don't you fall asleep again, Jazz. I can't do everything I want to do if you're asleep."

Of course from that moment on, sleep was the _last _thing on my mind, and it was only after we spent the next hour or so worshipping each other's bodies that I asked him, "How long have you been awake, Ed?" my concern that he had _not_ slept last night at the forefront of my mind. It was really a wasted question, because I should have known just by looking at him that he had in fact slept like a baby right beside me.

His smile wide and his eyes sparkling, he replied, "Only minutes before you, baby." My heart hitched for the umpteenth time at his endearment. "I can't remember when I last felt so rested, Jazz. That's three nights in a row—I might have to keep you around."

_Yes, please, _I said to myself, hoping he meant his words as more than jest.

"Are you concerned about work tomorrow, Ed? I can—"

"No, not concerned, just curious," he stops me, his hand reaches up and caresses my cheek, his thumb finishing on my bottom lip. "I just can't imagine not touching _this_ all day." His thumb becomes more insistent as he rubs it over my lip and I can't help my reaction as I suck him into my mouth, moaning softly around his digit and closing my eyes. "Because I am _so _going to want to touch you, Jazz."

His other hand links around my neck and he pulls me down, our lips exploring yet again. How many kisses we've possibly shared I can't even fathom, I lost count a long time ago, but every single one of them seems to get better and better and I wonder if this can continue; can we continue to soar?

"I really don't care who knows about us, please believe that." His eyes search mine for any sign of insincerity, and I stare at him, willing him to know how true my words are. "I mean it, Edward. I want to shout to the rooftops that I've met the real you… that you're mine."

His eyes glint in the low afternoon sunrays coming through the window. I can clearly see the emotion welling in them, but I don't draw his attention to my knowledge.

"With Carlisle and Esme gone, and for the next two weeks too, it should be a bit easier." I feel as well as see his head nod in agreement.

"I don't think they'd care too much," he says. I'm tempted to ask if that is truly the case for Esme, but I don't want to break the spell we're under, so I too nod my head. "I think it will be our team that will be more interesting," he adds.

"Hmmm." My thoughts immediately fall to Alice. I wasn't surprised to find multiple messages on my cell when I went home last night, and I admit I took the easy way out by messaging her back rather than calling her, so she will definitely be on a reconnaissance mission tomorrow.

"As long as you give me a few of these beautiful smiles, I'll be happy." His fingers are again tracing my mouth, and my reaction of course is to smile—I can't help it—and then I lean down and place loving kisses on his forehead, his eyes, his nose; ending on his luscious lips for a kiss that I hope tells him that nothing will change.

.

"Don't look at me like that, you miserable fleabag."

Sebastian has continuously scowled at me since I got home. I'm in a bad enough mood having left Edward; I really don't want to deal with my ornery cat right now.

He turns on his heel and pads away, but stops half-way to the kitchen, turning around to give me a final stare before he continues on his way back to his food bowl.

Sitting down, I open my laptop, overcome with the knowledge that the work I need for tomorrow and Sebastian are the absolute _only _reasons I came home.


	40. Chapter 40

_Monday, 7:00 am_

"Morning." Alice's singsong voice reaches my ears just as I'm about to add my signature to another document; it surprises me, because I didn't hear either the elevator or her heels announcing her arrival.

"Hi, sweetie," I call out and continue with my task.

Unfortunately, last night turned out to be a little less productive than I would have liked—a lot less productive actually. So I've been here since six am, desperately trying to get myself organized for my day ahead. Thankfully, I have no client meetings today, so I'll have the whole day to acclimate myself for the two weeks ahead. That's assuming I have no… distractions. My mind immediately wanders—

"You're in early," Alice states, interrupting my thoughts, as she walks through the door and straight for coffee.

"Not really." I turn the page and scan the words in front of me, not looking up as I say, "Make me one too, please, Ali?"

"Sure." Her giggle makes me smile. "And I suppose not, you're such an early bird," she refers to my last statement.

Yes, I am.

As I skim over page after page, I listen to her unobtrusive humming as she potters around. The song seems familiar; probably the last hit she heard on the radio this morning, and once again I'm lulled into a false sense of security as we both do our own thing, because I'm shocked when my coffee is placed in front of me, at the same time as she demands, "Spill."

I take a few seconds to look up at her and when I do, am not at all surprised by her determined expression. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play coy with me, Jasper Whitlock." One perfectly manicured eyebrow arches up. "You have some explaining to do."

"Excuse me?" I try my best to be evasive but know there is no way in hell she's buying any of it.

Without a word, she lifts her cup to take a sip of her coffee, and then calmly places it back on its saucer, but her eyes haven't left mine… not once… and it's quite unnerving.

"Alice, I—"

"What, Jazz, you were too busy to answer your phone, or to return my messages." I try to speak but her finger waggles at me, stopping me cold. "And don't you dare try and pass off that pathetic excuse for a text as returning anything."

I decide very quickly that rather than volunteer information, I'll only answer questions I deem worthy of a response—for now. It might be hard to tell her to mind her own business though. Taking a stand, I lift my own cup to my lips, the caffeine is a welcome distraction and I take every second she gives me as a reprieve, but then it starts.

"Did you spend the weekend alone?"

"No, as you know, Sebastian is wonderful company."

"Did you spend the whole weekend with only Sebastian, Jasper?"

"No, he wasn't in the car with me, or at the Thai restaurant when I picked up take-out."

I nearly crack, and have to hold back a smile, when her eyes narrow as she stares at me.

"Was there another human involved in your weekend, Jasper?"

I don't answer immediately; I can see she's getting exasperated. "Yes, there was." But I give nothing more away.

"Why are you being so evasive?"

I just shrug my shoulders.

What started out as a desire to keep every little tidbit of my weekend to myself has now become a game. I have every intention of sharing, in fact, I'm chomping at the bit to tell her now—to share—but it's fun to watch her reactions as we play—and I know she's enjoying it too.

"Did you spend time with a certain tall and sexy redhead?"

She takes another sip of coffee.

I mirror her.

It's a standoff.

She wins.

"Yes," I concede.

I barely see her place her cup and saucer on my desk before she's up and running around to my chair. She takes my own cup and places it down, and then throws her arms around me.

"Oh, my god, Jazzy. Really?" Her voice is excited and as soon as I nod to let her know she isn't hearing things, she squeals and throws herself onto my lap, pulling me in for the tightest hug ever.

"Edward? Really?" Her hands cup my face as she stares into my eyes. I can see the emotion in them, coupled with just a little bit of disbelief; she is so very happy for me. "I… Seriously, I'm not sure what to say. I thought you might have… I hoped you were… When you didn't answer your phone and… Oh, Jazzy." She pulls me in tight again.

"It was perfect, Ali."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I know she can see it my eyes; I feel as if it's exuding out of me.

She hugs me again and then whispers in my ear, "You really are happy, aren't you?"

"More than I ever thought possible." I think that's the understatement of the decade.

She pulls back again to look into my eyes. "Oh, Jazzy, for once in my life I don't know what to say."

"Well, goodness me. I've managed to stump Miss Alice Brandon."

Her smile is huge as she says, "Yes, you have. Just know I am so incredibly happy for you, honey."

This time I pull her in tight and I'm still holding her when a low cough causes me to pull back.

"Am I interrupting something?"

I look up to find the greenest eyes imaginable watching me, with the cheekiest smirk as their accompaniment.

"Certainly not," Alice says, jumping up.

His eyes don't leave mine for a second.

"If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a few things I need to…" I hear her speaking but her words have become a blur.

"Alice, shut the door, please. I'll let you know when I can be disturbed."

* * *

><p><em>;)<em>


	41. Chapter 41

_Hopefully you'll all enjoy reading this as much I enjoyed writing it. A certain sexy redhead wanted to have his say,_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Edward<strong>_

_Sunday, 6:00 pm_

"Hey," I say, trailing my finger across his chin; blue eyes turn and look up at me from the driver's seat. Letting my arm take my weight, I lean into the car, getting close to his ear as I try to make myself heard over the rumble of the V8. "We'll make exceptional use of this baby one day, too." His eyes close and he takes a deep breath; I know I don't have to explain any more than that—he gets it.

Pushing back from the car, I close the door with the reverence it deserves, and watch with a mixture of trepidation and awe as his candy apple red 1967 Mustang Fastback rounds the corner, leaving me in its wake.

He's gone.

Walking back into the house, I make my way straight for the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter once I get there.

Jakey bounds over to me; reaching down I pick him up and place him in my lap. This is such a normal comfort for me, something I do all the time with my 'best friend'.

Today it feels hollow.

And my house has never felt so empty.

_Monday, 7:20 am_

I'm honestly not surprised to see Alice perched on Jasper's lap when I walk through the door. And rather than be upset to see the close bond they share, it warms me. I now know the affection this man is capable of, and I can see by the way his arms are linked around her tiny waist, his head on her shoulder, that he gets a great deal back from her as well. There is an undeniable bond, and I know without him having to tell me that she already knows about our weekend, and if we continue down the road we've started, she'll also know every other damn thing that happens too, and I realize it's okay.

Feigning a cough, I let my presence be known, then add, "Am I interrupting something?"

When he pulls back to look my way and our eyes meet, it's as if the last twelve hours didn't exist, and even though I haven't moved farther into the room, I can feel the connection between us tightening, like a stretched spring ready to snap.

Alice seems to sense it too because she jumps up, almost anxious to get out of the way. "Certainly not. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a few things I need to do at my desk."

I feel her breeze past me at the same time as Jasper speaks for the first time; his eyes still haven't moved from mine. "Alice, shut the door, please. I'll let you know when I can be disturbed."

The click of the door lets me know we are finally alone.

Jasper stands and I take in every facet, appreciating this man in all his glory. His long legs take two steps toward me, and then he stops. I'm not sure why, but I'd guess it's for a similar reason as to why I haven't moved. I'm drinking in every miniscule detail of him, because I know what will happen once we touch again.

He's so damned handsome. The pant of his navy suit fits him like a glove, and I drag my eyes from his shiny black shoes up his body, appreciating every image. I file them away like frames for my own personal photo album: the trim waist and flat stomach, accentuated by a slim belt; the pink shirt and red tie, which only he could wear and make to look quite so fuck-hot; his blond curls, freshly washed and softly framing his face—the brow, the cheeks, the lips; and his eyes… When I meet them again I feel as if I'm drowning in their depths.

I berate myself briefly for all of the wasted moments we could've had, but regrets are a fruitless endeavor and I know this. We have now, and tomorrow, and hopefully a thousand more tomorrows after that.

As soon as he moves, I move, and it only takes three steps and I'm in his arms. I'd expected us to be nearly desperate, but it's not like that. It's warmth and comfort, passion and something else… so much more. His kiss is everything—it feels like home.

Hands in my hair and at my waist hold me close and even when our lips rest he doesn't loosen his embrace. I revel in the feel of his body tight against mine. If only we could escape back to our bubble from the weekend—because the fact is, I haven't had my fill.

With his face nestled against my shoulder, he murmurs, "Fuck, I missed you."

"I know." I'm not being vain and agreeing with him, telling him I know he missed _me_; I'm agreeing with the sentiment, because it was hell once he left; I truly can't remember ever feeling that way before.

He places a soft kiss to my lips and takes my hand. "Let's sit, we have some time."

He leads me to the sofa and we sit as close as can be. I twist my body and swing my leg over his then just kiss his cheek.

He smiles.

I think a small part of me hoped with the closing of the door, with the shutting out of the rest of the world, that we'd be insatiable again, barely allowing Alice to sit at her desk before our clothes would be on the floor, but I'm glad it didn't happen that way; this is so much better.

I'm reminded of our quiet times over the weekend, the ones that wound the threads of whatever 'this' is, tighter and tighter. And I like it, I like that we can get so much out of being together in this way.

The sex is great—fuck, it's perfect—and I know it will only get better and better, but this 'just being', well, it's kind of perfect too.

* * *

><p><em><em>Thanks for reading.<em>_


	42. Chapter 42

_Monday, 5:40 pm_

Looking down at the head in my lap, I smile. This is so nice, and such a change from just a few days ago. It boggles my mind.

Green eyes meet blue and his brow furrows, asking without words what I'm thinking.

"I'm just happy," I tell him. His smile is wide in agreement, and then he takes my hand pulling my fingers to his lips, where he kisses them lightly. "And a little bit… I don't know. Can I get away with saying 'in shock'?"

His chuckle warms me.

"It sure is surreal. Yesterday, we were doing _this_ on my sofa," he responds. He's referring to 'this', this 'just being' thing we've already worked into a fine art. "And now here we are in your office, winding down after a long day, doing the same thing," he nips at my forefinger, "although I do tend to recall your fingers in my hair."

"Is that right?" I ask, pulling my hand away from his. "Are you gonna get all demanding on me, Mr. Cullen?"

"Maybe."

Rolling my eyes, I add, "You're a cheeky little shit, you know that right?"

"I don't know about the 'little' bit—"

"Ha! You just proved my point. Cheeky. Little. Shit."

He shrugs then closes his eyes. My cue, I suppose, to do the 'fingers in hair' thing, not that it's a hard ask. Touching any bit of him is in no way hard. As we sit there in silence, my fingers dragging through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, I can actually feel the weight of his head getting heavier in my lap.

"Don't you fall asleep on me, Ed," I joke. It's only when his eyes blink open that I realize he might have actually _been_ falling asleep. "Ed?"

"Hmmm?"

Looking at the wall clock behind my desk, I'm reminded that it's still very early.

"Are you tired?"

He blinks again and focuses on me, smiling. "A little bit."

It isn't even six o'clock. And we certainly got plenty of sleep over the weekend. I thought we did. No, I know we did; we discussed it. He told me how well he'd slept—especially with us sharing a bed. The only time he wasn't with me was last night… but he was early and bright as a button this morning.

"Why are you so tired, Ed? It's still early."

We haven't had a busy day. There have been no taxing meetings or deadlines to deal with. We escaped for half an hour at lunchtime to meet in the park and eat lunch together, but he was fine then, I think. I scan back over the brief interlude and remember him yawning. Was it once or twice? I don't know. I didn't think much of it then. Going back to our team meeting, I recall having to ask him a question twice. These are all the signs of someone who's tired… someone who hasn't slept. Shit!

Did he sleep last night?

"Ed—"

A delicate but persistent knock interrupts me.

Alice.

"Come in," I shout out. I feel Edward go to sit up, but I hold him down with a hand on his chest, and when he looks at me I mouth, "It's Alice."

"I just wanted to say goodnight, Jazz." She makes her way into the room, stopping in front of us. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

I laugh out loud at that. "Of course you did, Ali. You're here to satisfy your curiosity and nothing more."

"That's not fair, Jasper." Her voice is indignant. "I always say goodnight to you… _in_ your office."

This time when Edward goes to sit up, I let him; I also notice how he shakes his head a bit as he sits up, and blinks his eyes.

"I'm only stirring you." I smile at her, trying my best to show her I mean no harm. "I'd be very unhappy if you didn't say goodbye."

"Humph."

"Ali, don't be like that."

"Well, I'm lucky I didn't walk in on something happening in here."

Edward looks a bit alarmed but I'm still not fazed. "I would never put you in that position, Ali."

"I'm going home now, so I can't watch the door for you anymore. They've all gone home though; I'm the last one."

"Thanks, sweetie."

"Thanks, Alice," Edward adds, causing her to smile and shake her head.

"How can I resist when you two are being so damned adorable."

"You think?" I shuffle closer and put my arm around his shoulder.

"Yes. Utterly adorable. It's wonderful to see such happy smiles on both your faces. It's been far too long coming."

I couldn't agree with her more.

"Should I lock the door on my way?" She asks as she turns. "Just so you know, the cleaners are around."

I look to Edward and he shakes his head; looks like we're leaving.

"We'll be right behind you. Have a nice night, sweetie. See you in the morning."

"'Night, Alice," Edward says, and then she is gone.

"We need to be careful you know." His hand rests on my knee and he squeezes gently. "I know we've discussed this, and I don't care who knows that we're together, but I think we need to ease them into it. I don't want it to cause problems for you."

Leaning in I kiss his cheek, loving that he cares so much, but I'm not really thinking about that right now. I'm more concerned about why he's so tired.

"Let's get out of here." I stand taking his hand and pull him up and into my arms. "Can I cook you dinner? I have a great bottle of Cabernet and some steaks to grill."

"Sounds perfect." He kisses me softly. "Can we go by my place first so I can feed Jacob?"

"Of course. I'll even throw the ball for him a few times."

"He'll love you for it."

_It's not _Jacob's_ love I'm after._

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	43. Chapter 43

_Monday, 7:30 pm_

"Smells great."

Standing at the grill out back, tongs in one hand, glass of red in the other, my body shivers as I hear the compliment whispered against my ear.

"Why, thanks. Shouldn't be long now. Hope you're hungry?"

I'm sure I hear him 'hmmm', but then he places his free hand on my hip and peeks over my shoulder, taking a mouthful of wine from his own glass.

"I finished the salad and set the table. So all's ready when you are."

Turning slightly, I watch him. The action of his throat swallowing down the ruby liquid makes my cock jump. So many times I've watched him do that—at a distance of course—coffee… water… All of those moments in meetings when all I could do was watch but never touch. But now… now he is right here and I can do whatever the fuck I want to.

With my eyes zeroed in on his Adam's apple, I lean forward and swipe my tongue across his stubbled skin, pausing to suck lightly when I reach the object of my gaze.

He moans softly, tilting his head back to allow me further access. And access him I do. Licking and nipping at every bit of exposed skin I can reach, and when I find the hollow above his clavicle I push my tongue against the soft skin.

"Jazz…" he says. "Baby, don't start something you can't finish."

I pull away, but only after a final kiss just under his chin. "Who says I can't finish. I have every intention of finishing."

Returning half of my attention to the barbeque, I turn the corn one final time and then look back at him, bringing my own glass to my lips and taking a generous sip.

His pained expression makes me smile; I love that I can affect him so much. His head is still tipped back and his eyes are closed and I'm intrigued by the slight shake he gives before he continues to speak. "I meant now. Right now." After a deep breath he looks my way. "If you'd kept kissing me like that, dinner would be ruined—just saying."

I laugh out loud.

"Do you find that amusing, Jasper?"

"I'm not laughing at you, Ed, I'm laughing with you, because you're right on the money. If you'd kept moaning like that for even a few seconds more, I'd have pushed you up against that wall, dinner be damned." When he looks my way I shrug. "The fact is I'm hungry, holding off now will be so worth it in the end."

"Tease," he declares.

"You're the one looking all sexy drinking wine, and then there's your Adam's apple, and—"

One moment I'm about to start putting the food on the platter, the next I'm being pulled away from the grill and enclosed in strong arms; his lips fuse to mine, and even though the tongs and glass in my hands prevent me from holding him tight, I take every bit of him he's willing to give, because really… food be damned, there is nothing I want more than him.

Am I shocked when he abruptly pulls away and begins walking toward the table? No, not really. He turns his head and looks over his shoulder, sending me a wink before he's on his way again.

Tease.

He truly is perfect.

.

It's a beautiful August night and we're enjoying the cooler evening air outside, still sitting at the table on my deck as we finish off the delicious bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Sebastian joined us just after I'd pushed my plate away, jumping up onto my lap and settling in for cuddle. The conversation is easy and I smile as he tells me of some childhood adventure he had with Esme. He loves her and that is very obvious. I can't help but think how happy I am that she's away right now though. Am I selfish? Maybe. I just don't want any negative influences.

As he talks, he leans his head back, as is his habit, and closes his eyes for just a moment. He seems to realize it quickly and corrects himself, but I pretend like I didn't notice. I'm so curious to ask him again about last night and whether he slept. He was extremely evasive in the car earlier—both times I tried to bring it up—so I won't ask again. Not tonight at least.

Pushing Sebs off my lap, I move over to his chair and straddle his lap. Fortunately the timber chairs are large and sturdy. It's a tight fit, but we won't be here for long.

"Stay the night," I say as I begin to kiss across his brow and down over his cheekbone.

"I don't know, Jazz, I—" His words are cut off as my lips meet his. I can taste the last mouthful of wine he drank on his tongue as he kisses me back. Our tongues dance together as our kiss becomes more impassioned. It is sublime. My heart's pounding in my chest, telling me with every beat where this is leading. If I could rip his clothes off now and make love to him here at the table I would, but I'm not prepared; maybe one day in the future that's exactly what I'll be able to do.

I break the kiss and begin to undo his shirt, looking into his eyes as my thumbs rub over more of his chest with every bit of flesh I expose, only occasionally leaning forward to kiss him briefly. I can feel his hands on my back. He has already pulled my shirt from my slacks, and the feel of his nimble fingers trailing my skin is incredible. And still our eyes are locked. For some reason this is nearly the most erotic part.

"Stay," I repeat.

"But Jacob—"

"Will be fine."

I persist with my mouth, forcing his hand; knowing he'll relent.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always for reading and sharing my journey.<em>


	44. Chapter 44

_Tuesday, 5:30 am_

It's early, but he did tell me last night that he 'expected' some fun stuff this morning, and if he wants 'fun stuff' as well as enough time to spend half an hour at his place with Jacob, well, we're gonna have to get a move on.

I'll rephrase that… _I'm_ gonna have to get a move on.

Watching Edward sleep and knowing, or at least hoping, that I somehow had a hand in his sweet dreams is a fantastic feeling. He looks so at peace and so damned beautiful. Not a line of worry mars his flawless features, and in the pre-dawn light starting to brighten the room I watch him, just observing all of those little nuances that can only be observed when the person you're watching is unaware—I suppose sleep constitutes 'unaware'—but seriously, I could watch him for hours, and I would… if only.

Dragging my eyes from his face to his chest, I allow my finger to lightly follow the trail my eyes have already set. He moves at my touch, but he doesn't wake. I get a bit more persistent as I drag my finger across his sternum then down and over his abs, lingering at his navel. It's intriguing to see the muscles tense as I go, and I can't say I'm disappointed when he rolls onto his back, the sheet only barely covering one of his legs and his cock. My finger continues its path, following the trail of auburn hair that leads to his hidden treasure, and it's at that moment that my decision is made. I know exactly what this 'fun stuff' will entail.

My boy is about to wake up a very happy man.

Gently shuffling down the bed, I hook my finger under the soft cotton covering him, pulling it along with me. When his body is revealed to me, I take a moment to just check him out. I feel my own erection rising—he looks that good. Fortunately his legs are already splayed, enabling me to crawl between them easily, and I settle myself into the perfect position. As I near his groin, the smell of sex permeates the air—it's heady and arousing. I'm reminded of last night, and the memory makes me want so much more than I have time to give him now, but I'll make do.

In the few minutes that have passed the room has lightened even more. I can see him clearly now, and the unusual color of his pubic hair holds my attention, as does his flaccid cock. It lies dormant and happy in its little nest of curls—perfectly groomed curls I might add—that stop at the base of his shaft, highlighting the bare scrotum beneath. I decide to start there.

Leaning down, I take a long dragging lick across his balls, starting at his perineum and ending at the base of his cock. I'm granted the reaction I'd hoped for—a small groan and a hardening of his shaft. I repeat the motion, once… twice… and then I suck the loose skin into my mouth, rolling my tongue over the flesh.

He still hasn't woken, but his dick sure has. It sits long and proud against his belly.

Wanting his cock in my mouth when he finally opens his eyes, I release his balls, then agonizingly slowly take a broad swipe along his rigid length, pushing my tongue firmly against his skin.

This time I get more of a reaction. His moan is throaty and deep, and all the encouragement I need to keep going.

Again I lick him—one long slow swipe, from base to glans, stopping at his frenulum and teasing the small ridge with my tongue.

Another moan laced with arousal leaves his lips, this time accompanied by a shift in his body. He hasn't opened his eyes, but he seems to subconsciously know what he needs to do. His hips move, planting his ass into the bed and his legs stretch, opening just a little bit more. I know he'll wake at any moment now, so without removing my tongue from his skin, I trail it up and around his glans, pausing for just a moment to push into his slit, which is beading pre-cum. I relish every drop, but at the gentle thrust of his hips I know I have no more time, and I open my lips, encasing his velvety crown fully before I slowly, ever so slowly, engulf his length into my mouth, allowing him to lodge deep into my relaxed throat.

"Holy shit," his sleepy voice announces. "Oh, Jazz... baby."

As I pull off him, tonguing his glans again, I do my best to look up at his face, finding two sleepy green eyes looking down at me.

"Jesus."

His hands find my hair and he gently guides me back onto his erection, showing me what he wants. I allow him to rock his hips because the movement is gentle and languorous. He is still drowsy, not yet fully awake, but his body knows what it wants.

"If I can wake up like this every… Jesus Christ, that's good." Again I chance a look; his head has fallen back into the pillow, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. "So good, baby… Oh…"

His movements become a bit random as his orgasm approaches. I feel the changes to his body; his cock has hardened a bit more and his balls in my hand have contracted. He's about to come.

"Jazz, oh… Jazz…"

He bucks his hips one last time and then stills in my mouth, his cum spurting down my throat. I pull back and swallow everything he's given me, then lick him clean before climbing up his body to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, although I'm sure he did.

His smile is all the answer I need, but he replies anyway. "Like a baby."

* * *

><p><em>Aww… morning BJs. Gotta love that.<em>


	45. Chapter 45

_Tuesday, 4:30 pm_

The easy pace of yesterday hasn't been present today. In fact, it's been absolutely chaotic. No time more so than now.

"Yes, I understand that, Sir, but believe me I'm more than capable of delivering—"

Alice watches me quietly as I continue going round in circles with this rather infuriating client.

"No, Mr. Russell, I won't contact Carlisle and ask him to call you."

As I listen, I raise my eyes at Alice; when she smiles back, I cross them together, pulling a silly face and making her laugh. She quickly covers her mouth—the action is just what I need—it reminds me of the _good mood _I'm in and gives me the bit of a boost I need to deal with Mr. Russell.

"Sir, be reasonable."

The call goes on and on until I'm forced to concede defeat, offering to fly out to see him at his offices tomorrow. It's not something I'm happy about, but I refuse to let this deal fall through on my watch. If I catch the red-eye tonight, meet with him first thing in the morning, then catch a lunchtime flight home, I won't have lost too much time.

As soon as I hang up the phone, I turn to find Alice at my desk, furiously typing away at the keyboard.

"I've cleared your morning meetings; there are two flight options, one at eight and one at nine…" She pauses as I think about my decision. "Will you need to take Rose or Mike with you?"

"No, I don't think so." My mind is racing a million miles a minute as I assess the situation. "Book me on the nine pm," I reach up and push through my hair. "What time does it arrive?"

"Just after eleven."

Fuck! I could really do without this. "Can you ring the Sheraton and book me—"

"Already done." Of course it is.

"Thanks, sweetie."

Making my way to the 'coffee corner', I make myself a _doppio espresso_—I'm gonna need it!

"Ali, could you see if Tanya is available to meet with us in about fifteen minutes; I'd like to go over a few things."

She stands up and makes her way to the door, speaking as she goes. "I'll see you back in here at five."

"Thanks, hon."

I immediately gather the files I need to take with me, and then begin to make some notes on what needs to be done while I'm gone. It's unlikely, but in the event that this thing takes longer than it should, I also review tomorrow and Thursday's schedules just in case.

Mike and Edward are meeting Mr. Pearson at one; there is no chance I'll be back for that now—

I only realize I'm being watched as I stretch my arms up and over my head. It's more a reflex thing with me, just something I do when I'm thinking, but the movement brings my head up and my eyes forward, and I'm happy to find Edward standing there watching me.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," he replies, walking farther into the room. "What's going on? Alice is looking a bit manic out there; it usually means she's running by the seat of her pants."

"Unfortunately, yeah. I'm flying to San Francisco tonight."

"You are?" he says, his facial expression immediately changing.

"The Russell account." I know I don't need to explain more than that.

"Oh… Well that kinda sucks."

"Sure does." And as I look at his disappointed face, I realize just how much.

"When will you be back?"

"I would expect mid afternoon tomorrow at the earliest, but… you know how it can be."

He turns back around and gently closes the door. We only have a few minutes, but I don't care, I need to hold him. Making my way toward him, I let out a big sigh as his arms wrap around my waist; it feels so fucking good and so very right to be here with him like this. He centers me in a way I didn't think would ever be possible.

"So, I suppose you have a shitload to do now, before you go, I mean."

"Yep."

"And dinner's off."

"Damn. Ed… I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, baby. I get it. Doesn't mean I'm not disappointed but…"

I meet his lips with mine, thanking him without words for being so understanding and _fucking_ awesome.

"Jazz." My intercom comes alive behind me. "Tanya: in fifteen seconds."

Edward pulls away, a chuckle lighting his face. "We have our own personal sentinel."

"We do. She's good like that."

He turns for the door.

"I'll be back."

I just smile.

_Tuesday, 6:45 pm_

"You hungry?" I hear the words and smell the aroma of Chinese at the same time.

Alice left only minutes ago, and I'm putting the final papers into my briefcase when Edward walks in, take-out containers in hand, and a hopeful but beautiful smile on his face.

"I was just about to leave." We'd already said goodbye just after six, so I'm surprised to see him.

"I know, but you need to eat. We can be quick."

"Ed…" I quickly move around the desk, taking the containers from his hands as soon as I get to him, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles as I do. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Anyway, I was going to cook for you, so this is close to the same."

I pull bottles of water from the fridge and take a seat beside him on the sofa. The food is delicious and it's only when I begin to eat I realize how hungry I was.

All too quickly I know I need to leave; Sebs is waiting for me and I need to pack some clothes.

We silently clear the mess before holding each other close. As my lips leave his, for what I know is the last time tonight, he says, "Call me before you go to sleep."

"I will, I promise."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks as always for reading. <em>

_doppio = double_

_I just need to say: I realize that the last few chapters have made it seem that Edward is 'cured' as long as he sleeps with Jazz. I wish it were that simple, but if it were then the story would be over. Remember it's only four days into their relationship, and even though the end is in sight, there are definitely a few twists and turns to come yet. I hope you stick with me to find out what happens._

_I took a bit of creative license with the flight times. I just needed him to leave later rather than earlier in the evening. Please forgive my inaccuracy._

_edwardsisobel beta'd, I played. Mistakes are therefore mine._


	46. Chapter 46

_Wednesday, 12:30 am_

"That's it, Ed, fuck your hand for me." I turn my head, allowing my voice to drift over the phone lying next to me on the pillow. "Grip yourself hard, Ed. Hold that gorgeous cock and move your hips… slowly though… don't want you to come yet."

I can just imagine how he looks right now: maybe there's a small bead of perspiration forming on his temple, ready to run down and over his cheekbone at any second; maybe his eyes are closed and his lips are parted—just a bit—as he loses himself to the sensations of his hand stroking himself, wishing it were me; maybe he's itching to frig himself as well and his other hand is subconsciously inching down towards his hole…

My own hand is on my cock, slicked with a mixture of my pre-cum and saliva. His moans and pants are turning me on so much, but my strokes are lazy—I don't want this to be over too quickly.

"_Tell me what you're doing, Jazz." _

"I'll answer that, but are you doing what I asked?" I pinch my nipple with slick fingers at the same time as the sound of a deep sigh comes through the speaker, and then trail my hand back down my body, using it to do a lazy double-handed stroke along my length before moving to cup my balls.

"_Yes… I'm stroking my dick, Jazz, just like you told me to. It's… Fuck. It's tight and slow… So fucking good."_

"Just as well." My hand feels good, nearly as good as if it were him, but only because of how turned on I am right now. "What's your other hand doing, Ed? I hope it's not just lying at your side?"

He laughs. _"No fucking way. It's on my balls, Jazz." _He pauses and he takes a deep breath. _"They're in my hand… I'm rolling… pulling… It feels so damned good, baby."_

I love that even without knowing it, his actions are mirroring mine.

"Reach over and get some lube, Ed. Lots of it."

"_Already done." _I hear a squelching sound—he must have moved the phone down near his groin. Damn!

Bringing my hand to my face, I spit into my palm. "Open your legs wide, then rub your fingers over your hole for me. But don't push in… not till I say."

My own hand snakes over my balls and when my fingers touch my perineum I apply pressure with two fingers—it feels so good.

"And keep pumping your dick—I am."

I can hear the slick sound of lube slipping along his erection; his moans are softer because the phone is farther away, but they're no less arousing—every sound he makes causes my breath to hitch.

When I get to my asshole, I apply the same pressure I afforded my perineum. Firm slow strokes that have my heart rate spiraling rapidly. His moans are increasing… my moans are increasing—it's not a bad way to spend a lonely night in a hotel.

"What do you want to do, Ed? What do you want me to do?" I want him to direct us.

There's no answer for the longest moment and then I hear his sexy voice. _"I want to fuck myself, baby. I want to push my fingers in deep… pretend… no, imagine it's you… your fingers. I want to imagine you're here with me…" _he pauses and I listen to the distinct sound of his hand stroking his cock, _"…and we're… we're sixty-nining, but not with our mouths… just our hands—this time."_

I can't help the growl that leaves my mouth.

"_But I don't want to do it alone, Jazz. I want you to fuck yourself too. I want… I want…" _another deep sigh from him. _"Push a finger into your ass, Jazz. Now!"_

Yes!

I do as I'm told, releasing a deep moan as my middle finger breaches my tight muscle, and I push in deeper as I listen to similar sounds coming through the phone; knowing Ed is doing the same as me is so damned hot and spirals me along.

It feels great, but it could be better and as I withdraw this time, I push in a second finger. "Ung… Another finger, Ed. Do it with me."

"_My pleasure… ahhh."_

Fuck!

"_It feels so good… you feel so good, Jazz. More!"_

I'm right there with him and push in three. The hand on my cock is surprisingly maintaining its rhythm—mostly—and the fingers in my ass… Jesus Christ it feels good.

"Ed… so good… so good." We're both nearly incoherent, our words and phrases coming out in panting gasps. "Rub your prostate, love. Imagine it's me." I find mine, pushing my fingers over it and applying pressure, at the same time as I try desperately to keep an even rhythm on my dick.

"_Jazz, baby… s-so good." _He's panting_. "Gonna come. Fuck g-gotta come."_

"Yes, Ed, coming too. Fucking hell," I bellow as my ass starts to contract around my fingers and my cock start to spurt my release across my belly.

As soon as I've finished I slowly remove my fingers, my arms slumping heavily at my side. My heart is pounding and it's taking a while to get my breath back, but holy hell, that was sensational.

"_Jazz?" _His ragged question brings me back to the moment.

"I'm here, love."

"_Wow."_

"You can say that again."

"_Wow."_

I can't stop the chuckle that leaves me, and I'm happy to hear one from him returned.

"Not that I'd ever pick phone sex over the real thing, but can we do that again one day?"

"_Absolutely." _His words are followed by a deep yawn.

"Tired?"

"_Yeah."_

"Me too. I miss you, Ed."

"_Same, Jazz. Talk tomorrow?"_

"Definitely. Night."

"_Night."_

And he's gone.

I clean myself up and close my eyes, only realizing as I'm about to fall into slumber that I called him 'love'."

* * *

><p><em><em>Thanks as always for reading. Hope you enjoyed.<em>_


	47. Chapter 47

_Wednesday, 8:00 am_

"Here's your coffee, Sir." The pretty blonde waitress who's been serving me all morning places my cup on the table, sending me a sweet smile as she does. I return it but look immediately to the papers in front of me, not wanting to flirt with her. She's been very attentive, and I have certainly noticed her coy attempts at trying to get my attention, but I have no interest. Last night's memories are the only things I want to concentrate on at the moment, and that includes a very obvious lack of interest on my part in getting ready for my meeting with Mr. Russell in an hour.

Even though I'm expecting it, the ring of my cell surprises me, pulling me away from an image of Ed lying naked on his bed, his phone close to his ear.

"_Hi, Jazzy,"_ Alice croons, as soon as I hit the answer key. _"How's sunny San Fran this morning?"_

"Well, considering I haven't left the building yet, all seems good."

Of course it's good, I'm still on my Edward induced high.

"_Smartass,"_ she quips. _"Now let's get on with it."_

After fifteen minutes of work related discussion our conversation morphs into a more personal one. She has me laughing loudly with stories of her dinner date the night before, and an unfortunate incident of crème caramel ending up all over her boyfriend's lap.

"I'm sure you had no trouble at all cleaning it away, sweetie; did you lick it off?"

Her peels of laughter ring through the earpiece and I pull my hand away from my ear to minimize the chance of injury just as the waitress returns to take away my empty cup.

"Can I get you anything else, Sir?" She looks at me expectantly.

"Ali, just a moment, hon," I say quietly, then look up at her. "No thanks, just the check, please."

"Certainly, Sir."

"_Certainly, Sir," _Alice mimics into the phone. _"Are you breaking hearts again, Jazzy?"_

"Alice." My tone is a warning.

"_Don't 'Alice' me. You know you're gorgeous."_

"Well, as much as I love you stroking my ego, there's only one person I want stroking any part of me at the moment, and I'm not interested in anyone else who may or may not flirt with me, especially those of the _female_ variety."

"_I know, Jazz. Speaking of gorgeous, did you speak to that man of yours last night?"_

"Maybe," I mutter.

Another laugh rings through the earpiece. _"I'm sure you did. I won't pry, Jazzy."_

"Well that's good, 'cause I'm not telling." Those are definitely memories for me alone. Looking at my watch I realize it's nearly eight-thirty. "Could you transfer me through to Ed's desk, please, Ali?"

There's a moment's pause before she answers. "He's not here yet, Jazz."

"Oh…" _He's not?_ "I'm sure he isn't far away; tell him I'll call him later, please."

"_I will."_ The pause is noticeable. _"Jazz, he'll be here soon."_

"I know. I'll call you from the airport, okay."

"_Okay. Bye."_

I'm lost to my thoughts when I realize the waitress is again standing next to me; instead of placing the check on the table and leaving, she's hovering, black folder in hand.

"I'll take that, thanks," I say, holding out my hand. She gives it to me, boldly making sure to brush her fingers against mine. I'm tempted to say something but refrain, instead choosing to ignore it, and after quickly signing the meal to my room, I pass it back and immediately begin to pack up my things.

She hovers for just a moment, but I don't acknowledge her, and then she obviously gets the hint and leaves. I've got to hand it to her for persistence. She just picked the wrong guy.

As I walk from the room all thoughts of the waitress are gone from my mind as I wonder about Edward. Has he arrived in the last five minutes since I spoke to Alice? Maybe he was already there and had gone to the kitchen for coffee, or to the bathroom. I'm plagued by doubts. Did he not sleep? He was certainly tired, or seemed tired, at the end of our call. Did he notice I called him love? Would that have worried him? Surely not? He's been calling me baby, but is it the same?

I need to snap out of this. I'm helping no one by worrying about something so irrational.

I'm tempted to try his cell, but the workday has already started, he'd be—or should be—in the team meeting now, and a direct call from me would be very suspicious. I'll just have to wait. I _need _to wait.

Fuck!

_Snap out of it, Jasper. You have a job to do, so do it._

Pulling myself together, I check out of the hotel and make my way to my meeting with Mr. Russell. It's a disaster. It's going to take more than a few hours to rectify this situation, plus, I need help.

_Wednesday, 11:30 am_

"Ali, how did you go with getting those flights booked?"

I have been in email correspondence with Alice all morning, so she knows exactly what's going on. She's had to book new flights, rebook existing ones, plus the hotel.

"_It's all good, Jazz. Assuming no delays, the flight this afternoon arrives 1:00 pm; actually, it should be in the air now. I've organized a car, so expect it around two. You can have your room from last night and," _not that that matters; I've already checked out, _"I've organized Mike to conference with you at three-thirty, assuming his meeting with Mr. __Pearson has finished."_

"Thanks, Ali, what would I do without you?"

"_Aww, Jazzy, you'll never have to find out."_

I sure hope so, not for a very long time at least.

_Wednesday, 2:30 pm_

"They're just through here," Mr. Russell's assistant says, and I look up to see her holding the door. "Mr. Whitlock's been waiting for you."

* * *

><p><em><em>Thanks for reading. <em>_


	48. Chapter 48

_Wednesday, 6:00 pm_

"Well, that was interesting. We certainly have our work cut out for us."

We sure do. We've just finished a grueling three and a half hour meeting with Mr. Russell and his management team that unfortunately hasn't been as productive as I would've liked. He's a cantankerous old man, stuck in the dark ages, who fights me at every turn. If there were a brick wall here right now, I'm sure I'd be banging my head against it—hard.

"I'm not sure what Carlisle does to pacify that man, 'cause I'd like to know his secrets, but we'll get there. I'm determined to prove to him that he can rely on me." Whether I'm referring to Mr. Russell or Carlisle with that statement I'm not sure: both most likely. It seems I have a lot to prove all round these days.

"It's not you he has an issue with, Jazz. I've been here with Carlisle during these meetings before and he's no different. He's reticent, that's all. An old man who doesn't like change."

"Yeah, I know. I just really want to prove to Carlisle—and Esme—that he did the right thing in asking me to hold the fort for them while they're away. It's important, you know."

"He wouldn't have asked if he didn't think you could, Jazz. You haven't been here as long as others, but you've made a difference already. Look at our department, and how well we're doing with our direct clients. He's no fool; that's why the company is so successful."

"I have you to thank for a lot of that. We have a great team, but I wouldn't be able to do it without you."

"It's my pleasure. I love working with you, Jazz. I really do."

I can't help but smile at the compliment. It makes everything so much easier to know I have the support of the people I work with.

"Enough of this," I say, hoping to steer us away from talk about work. "It's been a long day and I'm starving; how about you?"

"Ravenous!"

"We're in San Francisco! Let's go find us some great food."

"Yes! Let's go."

Even though it's a bit cliché, my suggestion of going straight to Fisherman's Wharf is met with excitement, so we jump on a trolley and head straight there. Knowing we'll be able to find somewhere delicious to eat I'm not concerned about our lack of a booking, and Rose is happy enough to leave it to fate as well.

A small bistro catches our attention, its cute sidewalk tables drawing us in, and once we're seated we share our appetizers and a delicious bottle of Semillion.

"I liked my scallops better than your shrimp… even though both were delicious," Rose says as she presses her fork into the last shrimp on my plate, pulling it quickly to her mouth before I have a chance to take it back.

I laugh at her evaluation of the food, it's so typically Rose—we're having fun. "I agree, but my entrée will be better than yours."

"How can you say that?" She laughs along with her question. "My salmon will be better than your chicken, I guarantee."

"Yeah, but either way you'll be eating some of both, won't you?"

"Probably." She laughs again, the tinkling sound such a sweet contrast to the shrewd businesswoman I know she can be. "You do realize I have to enjoy this sharing thing while I can; it's not something that's very successful when I'm with Em."

I've seen Emmett eat, so understanding what she's getting at is easy. I join her, laughing along and enjoying the moment.

"Look at you two." Our waitress, an older woman with tight red curls and a big smile says as she approaches us to remove our plates. "Such a beautiful young couple; so happy and in love."

I go to correct her, but Rose shakes her head and mouths "no". I'm slightly perplexed but go along with her.

"Thank you," Rose says. "That is very sweet of you to say."

Deliah, our waitress, continues, "Oh, honey, it's not sweet, it's just an old lady appreciating young love and wishing she still had it. Keep laughing together and life will always be good." She takes our plates and turns to leave. "Those entrées will be out very soon."

"Thank you," we reply at the same time.

As soon as she is out of earshot Rose speaks. "I hope you don't mind me doing that. I didn't want to spoil her fantasy; something tells me it might be all she has."

"No, Rose, it was sweet; it's not a problem at all."

She is quiet for a moment, obviously reflecting on what had happened. "She was smiling and vivacious but it didn't reach her eyes. I hope I never have to live that, Jazz."

I nod. I understand loneliness all too well, but the thought that those days are over is enough to make me smile and think of Edward.

"Are you thinking about a certain handsome co-worker, Jazz?" Her words surprise me, and my gaze quickly snaps to hers. Could she know? Has she guessed?

"Your secret is safe with me, Jazz." I can't help but believe her. There's something incredibly supportive about her expression; it's as if she wants to be there to help us.

"I'm not sure what to say." Partly because I don't want to betray Edward by discussing him with one of his friends. He's very close to them, but I doubt very much he's shared what's going on between us yet.

"I don't know what's happened between you, but something tells me it's very special." She takes my hand across the table, squeezing it gently. "I've known Edward for a long time, he's a very dear friend, and I've _never _seen him like he's been the last few days—with this sense of inner peace. Be good to him, Jazz, that's all I ask."

* * *

><p><em>;)<em>


	49. Chapter 49

_Wednesday, 7:45 pm_

I debate denying that there's anything going on between us, but I know it's a futile endeavor. She knows; it isn't even a guess on her part.

"What gave us away?"

"I knew it!" she exclaims, and then at my intake of breath laughs before continuing. "Calm down. Of course I knew, you didn't confirm anything—well, not really—I've just always wanted to say that."

I shake my head and smile, but I can also feel the blush spread across my cheeks. It takes a lot to make me blush, and Miss Rosalie Hale has just achieved it.

"Shit, Rose." I stop, thinking through my words carefully. "It's not that we're hiding, but it's all so very new."

"It might be for Ed, but it's not for you is it, Jazz?"

Now I _am_ a bit confused. It would be one thing for her to have noticed the odd gaze or smile over the last few days, but why would she question me and think that something has been going on for longer? People might have noticed my frustration and contempt for Edward over the past few months—an attraction though? This surprises me.

"Oh, come on, Jazz. They say there's a very fine line between love and hate. And if I were to take a guess; mine would be that you've been skating that line for a while."

"Have you been talking to Alice?" I'd be surprised if she has—and disappointed.

"No! Alice would never betray you. Never. She didn't have to."

I start to panic. If she's noticed, who else has?

"Jazz, calm down. I don't think anyone else has figured it out either. I'd doubt very much that Mike and Tyler would give it enough brain space to even make a connection." She obviously sees me relax a bit at that. "I haven't even discussed it with Em." _Really_? My raised brow at that makes her backtrack. "Okay… I might have mentioned it once or twice. Just as a joke."

"I'm sure it was very funny." At my snippy comment, she squeezes my hand again.

"It was months ago, and only because we thought you'd make a cute couple. But I haven't mentioned it lately; not since I began noticing a few things."

"Noticing things. What? Me screaming at him."

"Umm… yeah, actually."

I pull my hand away; then throw both into the air, shaking my head. It's maybe a tad dramatic. "You're not making any sense."

"Jazz… listen. For you, one of the nicest guys I know by the way, to totally lose it with Edward like you have twice now, well it just made me go 'hang on, something more is going on here.' A few snide comments here and there, plus, you called me Miss Hale on Wednesday last week when you asked me to leave the meeting room."

"You are Miss Hale. Is me saying your name in a meeting really that weird?"

She gives me another tilt of her head and a 'really' look.

"What else have you noticed?" I ask, resigned to it now.

"Every time his name was mentioned when we went for pizza your ears would prick up. It was so obvious. You were itching to ask about him, weren't you?"

This woman has my number.

I smile and lower my head, closing my eyes as I remember. "Yes."

"I could tell. If Em hadn't been there I might have even volunteered some information, but as much as I love him, Em isn't the most discrete at times."

"Well thank you for not throwing me to the wolves."

"Don't misunderstand what I mean by that, Jazz. I can guarantee that Emmett will be your greatest advocate once he knows, but it wasn't prudent to have him know before Ed did." I think I understand everything now. "So when did _it _happen?"

"Ed and me?" At her nod I continue, glossing over everything from our discussion in the meeting room after she had left, to our night of beer and wings.

"Of course… Friday… You spent Thursday night together?" She does seem surprised by her deduction.

"Oh, God no. We both went home alone." It reminds me of the kiss I gave him and I brush my finger over my lips.

"Oh, you do work fast. A bit of smooching went down did it?"

I don't answer her—I don't need to.

"Jasper! And then the weekend. Did you spend the _whole_ thing together?"

This time I do feel my cheeks heat. I won't be sharing any of that.

"Don't answer that. Something tells me I'd likely combust."

She really looks happy for us. All I can hope is that _everybody _is so accepting.

"Thanks, Rose. Thanks for your support."

"I want you to both be happy, Jazz. I think you could be really great for each other."

I can't help but feel I'm being cautioned. I just wonder if she realizes who exactly is the vulnerable one here.

_Wednesday, 10:45 pm_

"Sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower," I tell Edward after he has answered the phone, explaining what I was doing when he called me earlier.

"Hmmm… That's a nice visual to take into dreamland with me," his sleepy voice replies.

I can definitely do better than that. I'd love a repeat of last night, if he's willing.

"So what are you doing now?" I ask, my voice low and hopefully sultry. "Maybe I can—"

He cuts me off with a big yawn. "Sorry, so tired. I was just falling asleep when the phone rang."

"Sorry. If I'd known I would have called in the morning." I feel bad to have woken him. I know how hard it can be for him to fall asleep.

"No, it's fine. But you know me—try and catch it when I can and all that."

"Go to sleep, Ed. Sweet dreams. I'll call tomorrow."

"Night, Jazz."

I'm disappointed when the call ends.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	50. Chapter 50

_Thursday, 8:45 am_

"Morning, Jazz."

"Mornin', sweetie."

"You're calling a bit later this morning. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Rose and I just got involved in some planning before we go into this second meeting and lost track of time."

"You still hoping to catch the 2:00 pm flight? I can change—"

I cut her off. "It's fine, Ali. I guarantee we'll be on that flight," I say with a determined edge. "How's everything there? Anything I need to know about?"

"No. Everything's running smoothly. I'm just doing some re-scheduling now for the Pearson meeting and then—"

"Hang on. What do you mean re-scheduling? The Pearson meeting was yesterday." I'm confused. I've spoken to both Mike and Edward since then and neither mentioned a change; granted it was during a conference call with another client when I spoke to Mike, and then Edward was practically falling asleep on the phone when I spoke to him.

"I'm sure I emailed you..." She pauses. "Yes, I did." I pull up my inbox, it was during my first meeting with Mr. Russell; no wonder I overlooked it.

"Sorry, Ali. Mr. Pearson postponed?"

"He's been sick, but his secretary said he should be okay for today."

"And Edward and Mike are free for the change in times?"

"Umm… Yeah." She seems unsure. I'm just about to question it when she changes the subject, leading me into some other important matters that need my attention, and really, I shouldn't concern myself with Edward and Mike. They know what they're doing.

_Thursday, 6:45 pm_

"Would you mind waiting for me, Paul? I'll only be fifteen minutes."

We dropped Rose at her apartment on the way. I'd prefer to have gone straight to my house, or even Edward's, but the delay of our flights means I'm very behind and I need some documents. I still have hours of work ahead of me, but I'll do it at home. Sebastian will be happy to see me and I might even be able to convince Ed to come for a visit. Well, I'll certainly try.

"I'll wait here, Sir."

"Thanks, Paul."

I hurry for the elevator, hoping to be in and out of the building quickly. It's late and I assume everyone will be gone for the day, so I nearly fall over when I walk into the office and find Edward at his desk.

He looks up at the same time as I exclaim, "Ed!" I can't believe he's here.

I quickly look around and check we're alone, and as soon as I'm sure we are I hurry to him, reaching him at the same time as he stands. I pull him into my arms, kissing him soundly. He feels so damned good. I knew I'd missed him, but in this moment I realize just how much. I actually feel like I'm home.

"Why are you still here? Not that I'm complaining."

He pulls back slightly, his smile shy. "I had some work to catch up on."

I bring my hands from his waist to his face, cupping it gently and rubbing my thumbs softly over his cheeks. "Damn, I missed you." I kiss his lips again; he tastes so delicious.

"I missed you too, Jazz." He holds me tight for just a moment longer and then tries to pull away, but I'm having none of that—I hold on tight.

"Where are you going? I haven't seen you in far too long."

He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. His next words pacify me though. "Let's go to your office." He tilts his head toward the security camera. _Ah… of course_.

"Sure."

I take his hand and lead him behind me, drawing him deep into the room and out of sight. As soon as we're there I enclose him in my arms. "I've _really _missed you." I want to show him how much, and this time when my lips meet his, it's with a reserved passion. Our tongues dance together and as our desire escalates I push one hand into his hair, the other grips his lower back, holding him as close as I can.

At this point I truly couldn't give a shit about any work I need to do. I just want him. I _need _him_._

"Oh, Jazz," he purrs when my lips suckle on his neck. I can feel his erection hard against my leg. All I want to do is rip his clothes off and ravage him.

"Want you so bad," I murmur against his hot skin. "Come home with me, love. Please come home with me. Paul is waiting downstairs; we can be there in twenty minutes."

"Can't…"

I pull back and stare into his eyes. "Why not?"

"Jazz, I can't. I'm sorry."

This time when he steps back I let him. I'm confused.

"I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow." He drops his head, shoulders hunched, and he walks out the door.

I'm so surprised that I don't speak—I can't speak—I just stand there, my feet rooted to the floor. _What the fuck is going on? _

It's only moments later that I hear the ding of the elevator, and it spurs me into action. I run out of my office but I'm too late.

_Thursday, 10:45 pm_

I pull off my glasses and rub at my eyes; the glow of my laptop is bright in the darkness of the room.

Sebs is half on me and half beside me. He's barely left my side since I got home.

I've forced myself to do the work I needed to do, but it's been difficult. I can't stop thinking about Edward. I've called him but he's not answering, and I'm confused. I don't know what's changed.

"Oh, Sebs," I say as I rub his ear, making the decision to go to bed. I log off and close the screen then stand. "Come on, buddy."

We're just at the stairs when there's a knock on the door.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. Hmmm… Thoughts?<em>

_I am very fortunate to have an amazing beta on this story. Not only is she always honest and calls it like she sees it, which I appreciate more than I can say, but she is also there to listen to all my crazy ideas, help me sort them out, and supply unwavering support. Love you, Suz.__  
><em>


	51. Chapter 51

_Thursday, 10:55 pm_

I'm so excited by the possibility of _who's_ there that I run to the door, foolishly throwing it open, not considering the late hour or the fact that I have an unexpected visitor.

The sight that greets me is enough to nearly drop me to my knees.

Edward stands there; his green eyes, nearly black in the dim light, are a mixture of confusion and determination. One hand's in his hair, obviously having just pushed it off his face; the other holds a black motorcycle helmet. A well-worn leather jacket sits squarely on shoulders that are held high, quite the opposite of the defeated person that walked away from me earlier this evening.

I can't help how my eyes scan him—he's truly breathtaking—but his demeanor has me on edge.

"Edward—"

My words are cut-off when he steps toward me. Setting his helmet on the floor just inside the door, he pulls me into his arms. His hand is behind my neck, fingers firm in their grasp as he holds me locked so close to him that I can feel his heavy breaths fluttering against my skin. If it's even possible, his eyes darken further and then he's crashing his lips brutally to mine and his tongue's pushing into my mouth. Everything about this kiss is forceful… and again, determined. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm powerless to stop him. I don't _want _to stop him.

Without taking his lips from mine, he walks us backward into the entry. I feel him reach to shut the door, the click of the lock echoing loudly in the tiled room.

And then I feel the hard wall behind my back. Taking both my hands in his he lifts my arms high; it's as if he's securing me to the wall. His body pushes firmly against mine. I can feel him at every point of contact; his hard boots against my bare toes, the denim of his jeans dragging over the soft cotton of my pajamas, the cold metal of his belt buckle against the skin of my stomach, the zipper of his jacket pushing into my chest, and his teeth and lips as they punish mine.

"Couldn't stay away…" he mutters against my neck. "Want you… Fuck that! _Need _you."

"I'm yours, Ed. You have me."

As if he hasn't even heard what I said, he keeps muttering. "So much, baby… Couldn't stay away… Fucking beautiful… Feel _so_ good… Taste so. Fucking. Good."

"Edward!" I force my hands down and bring them to his face, cupping his stubble-rough jaw. He tries to resist, continuing to nip at my skin, but I repeat his name. "Edward." His eyes meet mine again; they are no less determined but I seem to have his attention. "Let's go upstairs, love."

All I get in response is a nod; he allows me to take his hand and lead him silently up the stairs.

We walk into my bedroom, reaching the middle of the floor before I feel his grasp on my hand tighten and I'm pulled around and back into his arms. He just holds me, his face nuzzled into my neck and his arms tight around my waist. There's so much to the embrace, it's warm and comforting, and I feel as if it's repairing the distance I've felt between us. When Edward's lips begin to nuzzle my skin again I sigh. It feels good and so tender in comparison to what happened only minutes before downstairs.

The calm doesn't last for long though; I begin to feel the hard edge of Edward's teeth, and the bruising force of his lips as he begins to suck on my skin. His body starts to rut against mine. I may not be pinned to a wall, but the pressure of his embrace allows me to feel every part of him just as if I were.

Hands grasp at my sleep-shirt, pulling it up my body. Fingers trail the path as he lifts, sending little sparking currents into my flesh. Pulling back he lifts it over my head and then discards it on the floor. His lips meet mine again at the same time as I feel his hands push down over my hips and under the fabric of my pajamas. Down my legs he goes, reaching nearly halfway down my thighs, and when he pulls up again his hands stop and cup my buttocks, his fingers kneading the flesh and pulling my hips forward to meet his.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he asks, again pushing his pelvis into mine. "I can't stay away from you."

Why is he saying this? "Edward, you don't—" Again he cuts my words off with a kiss, leaving me no room to speak, and little desire to do so if I'm honest, but my mind's a cacophony of confusion. He's saying one thing and then totally contradicting himself with his actions, but I have little time to lament it when he hooks his fingers under my waistband and pushes my pajamas down my legs. They fall to the floor, pooling around my feet.

I'm naked—exposed in so many ways.

His hand reaches forward and cups my cock, his fingers massaging my sack for a moment before gripping my length in a tight hold. He strokes me, agonizingly slowly, rubbing his thumb over my tip… around and around. Never do his eyes leave mine. Even when he leans in—his hand still pumping me—and kisses me, his eyes bore into mine. Pulling back, his free hand caresses my face, his thumb grazing my bottom lip, then he moves down over my neck and across my chest, stopping just short of my nipple—teasing me.

He takes half a step back, removing his hands from my chest and cock at the same time. Still his eyes are locked to mine, even as he says, "Get on the bed, Jazz."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	52. Chapter 52

__Thursday, 11:25 pm__

From my vantage point in the middle of the bed, I watch him watching me. His eyes stare—the dilated pupils still nearly black—and he may not be touching me, physically, but every nerve in my body is on edge… alive because of his attention.

His hands move to remove his jacket. There's no pretense, no game. One second it's on his body and the next it's on the ground. I'm surprised to realize he's wearing my clothes underneath—the too small tee and the well-worn jeans—Jesus! But I only have a moment to appreciate him in them, because the tee joins the jacket and my clothes on the floor almost immediately. He bends to undo his boots, eyes never leaving mine, and then balances as he toes them off and reaches to pull off his socks.

During this 'striptease', if you can call it that, my hand has found my dick, and his eyes move to watch me stroke myself. His breath comes out as a growl and then he takes the three steps necessary to get to the bed, undoing his fly as he moves. My eyes follow the trail from his navel and I can clearly see his curls as the jeans drop lower on his hips now that they are open. I think he'll pause again to push them off, but he doesn't, crawling over me instead to fuse his lips to mine.

My hand leaves my dick, giving him the space to grind into me. The soft, used denim has pushed down a bit farther and his cock rests against mine now, our skin sliding together as he thrusts above me. With his lips on mine, his hand pistol gripping my neck and our cocks rutting together I could almost come. It's fucking amazing.

"Fuck, Jasper," he mutters and then begins to kiss down my torso until he is settled between my legs. I feel his teeth nip the soft but taut skin over my hipbone, and he continues to nibble down to my leg, giving the skin of my thigh similar attention. He teases me, getting so close to where I want him but never following through, and I'm moving my hips, desperately trying to get my cock in his mouth, but his avoidance is expert—he's playing me.

Two can play at this game though, and because he doesn't expect it, I easily sit up and flip him over. He's not quite where I want him so I lift under his shoulders, almost throwing him higher up the bed. After kissing him with gusto, I mirror what he did to me, taking my time to get from his face to his groin, but because I want what's under those pants in my mouth as much as I'm sure he wants it there, I don't tease… too much.

I breathe in a deep lungful of his scent; it's musky and all Edward. Playing with the cloth of his jeans, I run my fingers along the band, pulling it down a bit more with every pass and follow the exposure of his skin with my tongue. When the fabric sits below his groin and his cock is proud and on display, I finally push the jeans down his legs, encouraging him with my hands to kick them off, and when his legs are free I push them wide and lean down to suck his balls into my mouth.

"Fuck!"

The exclamation spurs me on. Holding his cock flat on his belly allows me access and I lavish his balls for a while longer. I take a moment to look up; his eyes are closed and his head is thrown back, and I smile to myself at the sight of him fisting the sheets with a white-knuckled grip at his sides. With the flat of my tongue I lick his dick from root to tip a few times, before sucking his crown into my mouth and concentrating on it.

"Jazz… Fuck, baby."

I feel his fingers grip my hair, a sure indication that he wants to be deep in my throat, so I comply, taking him cautiously in until I can feel him pushing past my gag.

"God, your mouth feels good, baby. Never felt anything like it."

I suck and lave, lick and pull, and when I finally feel I've pushed him too far, I move off him, immediately seeking his mouth for another passionate kiss. It's great like this but I want to use my hands, so sitting back on my haunches I pull him up to straddle me. Now my hands are free to touch every part of him, and I do: running my fingers lightly over the tensed muscles of his back; threading them into his hair; grasping us both in my hand and stroking our hard slick lengths together.

"Ed… I'm so glad you're here…" My words fade off when his hand joins mine. "Jesus that feels good."

"Oh, God… so good, Jazz. So damned good."

I can feel myself getting close, and I don't want to come already. "Too good. Don't wanna come this way. Not now."

I feel his teeth bite gently against my throat as his hand lets go of the grip on our erections, and then he shuffles back and onto the bed. His hand meets my chest and he pushes me backward and I allow myself to fall; my head hangs over the side of the bed when I land. Lifting my head to see him, our eyes make contact as he grabs my legs and pulls me toward him. I think that's it until he pulls my legs up to hang over his shoulders, bringing my hips up high, and the only support I have is my shoulders on the comforter. He kisses the soft skin of my inner thigh and then licks my balls, and when he moves to my hole it's to ready my ass with his mouth.

* * *

><p><em>I know some of you are confused by Edward's actions, but that is sort of the point. This is Jasper's POV, and he is confused. You know as much as he does, which I understand isn't much at this point, but it will be explained. I am loving your guesses though. Thanks to those who are letting me know their thoughts. I appreciate it very much.<em>


	53. Chapter 53

_Friday, 3:25 am_

Thump. Thump. "Reow." Thump. Thump.

"Not now, Sebs," I grumble, swatting at him as he jumps across the pillows. As usually happens when my insistent feline attempts to wake me at this time of the morning, I keep my eyes closed, hoping he'll get the message and go away. Unfortunately, it rarely works.

Thump. Thump. "Reow." Thump. Thump. "Reowww."

"Sebastian," I growl. I still haven't opened my eyes and it's only when I feel movement behind me that I realize I'm not alone.

Edward. I can't let him be woken.

A feeling of being watched overwhelms me, and opening my eyes I look forward to find orange circles scrutinizing me. "Hang on." He must understand me because the pillow hopping ceases.

While my eyes focus and my body comprehends that I'm dragging it out of bed, I remember last night.

Edward's arrival at my door.

His gorgeous mussed hair.

His steely determined glare.

His sexy leather jacket… and _my_ clothes on his magnificent body.

His soft lips on my body… all over my body.

As if I'm watching a replay, I remember how I rode him, straddled over his thighs as he sat on the bed, legs bent, back straight; how his arms held me tight and locked to his body. We kissed and caressed until it became too much and my release spurted between our stomachs setting off his own.

After removing Sebastian I return, making sure to close the door behind me, positioning my drowsy body into bed as gently as I can, so as not to wake Edward.

I back into his warmth, hoping his slumbering body will know I'm there and embrace me. His sleepy words surprise me. "He's very insistent, isn't he?"

"Mmm… he can be."

"I don't mind that he woke us."

His arm snakes around my waist, the fingers grazing a delicate trail that tickles my sensitive skin. As lips find my neck and the shell of my ear, the hand that was only just teasing me pinches my already over-sensitized nipples, causing me to moan a low chorus, "Edwaaaaaard…"

"Since we're both awake, we really shouldn't waste the time."

His wet tongue runs back and forth across my shoulder and neck, and hot breath flutters against my ear.

"No… shouldn't waste…" I try and roll over but he holds me firm with the hand that is now caressing my tensed abs.

"Mmm hmm," he agrees against my skin. "Shouldn't waste any opportunity."

In my sleepy haze I feel as if he's touching me everywhere. I feel engulfed by him. When his hand finally reaches my jutting erection, I know there'll be no sleep for us for a while.

"So… so beautiful." His words are still a quiet whisper against my ear. I curl my free hand up and thread it though his hair, pulling his face to mine as I turn my head to kiss him.

He continues to stroke me with slow strong pulls, increasing my arousal. He presses against me, slipping along my crease in the left over lube from earlier.

"Want you." The accompanying sigh is needy as he thrusts. "Please can I have you again, baby?"

"Yes…"

I again try to roll over and he stops me.

"Just like this, Jazz. Let me take you like this."

Reaching forward I grab a foil packet from the side table and hand it to him. I hear the rip of the packet and then his hips move back, I'd imagine to sheath himself, and then the squeezing sound of the lube before his fingers rub slick gel between my cheeks and along his cock.

"Do you need prep?" he asks softly. His length is back against my ass, but he is waiting for me.

"No. Don't think so." The sensation is so good already. "Just go slow."

He grasps me behind my knee, hitching my leg up. "Hold your leg, Jazz." I do, then feel him take his cock and line it up, nudging at my hole with short gentle jabs. "Tell me if you need me to stop." I nod. "Please, Jazz."

I love that even through his lustful haze he's concerned about me.

"Promise."

The burn of him breaching me is welcome and my hips push back instinctively. He moves slowly but takes my eagerness as an affirmation and is seated fully inside me after just a few thrusts.

"Fuck!" His exclamation is soft, but his tone leaves no room for argument, and I couldn't agree more. _Fuck!_

Now that he is inside me he takes the weight of my leg in his hand, opening me wide and plunging in an out as much as our position will allow, over and over, for long glorious minutes.

"Use your hand," he tells me and I do, matching each thrust until we climax together.

When I turn and kiss him, it's like a promise of so much more, and drifting back to sleep, my mind fantasizes about how good it would be to have this every night.

_Friday, 5:30 am_

The buzz of the alarm jolts me awake.

Reaching over to hit the snooze button, I find that I can't move. There's a heavy weight on top of the comforter holding me down. It must be Edward's leg. Stretching a bit farther, my fingertips hit the button on the alarm and the room becomes quiet again. The silence brings with it, not another person's breathing behind me, but a content purr. Sebs? I know I shut the door when I came back in after putting him out this morning. My hand reaches down to touch the heavy weight behind me, hoping to find a long lean leg but fearful it will be soft fur.

Could they both be here?

As my fingers touch the satiny fur I am so familiar with I turn, knowing before I do that I'm alone.

The bed is empty.

When I reach out to touch the indentation on the pillow, it's cold.

* * *

><p>:)<p> 


	54. Chapter 54

__Friday, 8:25 am__

"Is it really Friday?" I ask Alice rhetorically as we walk from the elevator through the office. We've just spent the last forty minutes with Rose and Tanya, going over the meetings in San Francisco and putting in place some strategies to help us get through next week. Tanya's so in tune with her boss that it's almost like having him there, and her input was invaluable.

"Yeah, it really is." I can hear the amusement in her tone.

I honestly _cannot_ believe it's Friday already. It's hard to wrap my head around how quickly the week has passed. It doesn't help that the last twelve hours seem hazy, like they didn't actually happen, even though the burn in my ass may tell me otherwise.

"Are you okay, Jazz? You seem a bit… off."

"I've had better mornings, Alice." I smile at her, but my eyes scan the room for Edward at the same time. I can't see him and it doesn't look as if he's been at his desk yet either.

"Alice? Well something is definitely wrong." She's right; I never call her Alice when it's just the two of us. "Can you spare a few minutes, Jazz, I really need to speak to you."

"Sure." Stopping in my tracks, I scan through my mental organizer for the day. "We're meeting at nine with the team… and then…"

"We have plenty of time, Jazz. Come on, I'll make you a coffee." She actually sounds concerned and when I look to her face I see the same emotion written all over it.

I mentally slap myself, refusing to let my personal life affect my professional one. I've gone over every possible reason why Edward wasn't in my bed this morning, and most of them point to him going home to get ready for work. He has Jacob there after all. I'm just being silly.

With coffees in hand we sit across from each other at my desk.

"Jazz, we had a few issues while you were gone."

"And you're only telling me this now." All I can wonder is _what _type of issues would have her looking so damned nervous, and if they were that serious to bring about this kind of reaction in her, why has she waited till now. "What's happened?"

She's anxious and obviously struggling to find the words she needs. "I— He— Shit, Jazz. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but you were delayed, and there was no point in telling you before that—the day before you know—because it wasn't really the same thing, and…" She pauses and I can tell that her foot's tapping on the floor in front of her because her whole body is shaking with the movement.

What the hell has her so flustered? "Just spit it out, Alice."

"Edward was late, Jazz." _Was he just? _But I still don't understand how this is such a major problem; there has to be more to it.

"When, Ali?" My tone must be as resigned as I feel.

"He was late on Wednesday, but you know that. You asked to speak to him, rem—"

"How late?"

"An hour."

"Please tell me that Mr. Pearson postponed the meeting on Wednesday and that it wasn't because—"

"Oh, he did. I took the call. I actually thought at the time Edward had dodged a bullet. I know he met with Mike for a long time after he arrived. Jazz, I didn't tell you because I knew there was nothing you could do and I thought maybe with everything that's happening between you, he might tell you himself when you got back."

_Well, he certainly hasn't fucking done that. _"Is that all?" Even as I ask the question I know there's more; my gut is screaming at me.

"No." She looks at me apologetically. "He was late yesterday as well. An hour and a half, Jazz. And something went wrong in the meeting with Mr. Pearson. Mike was furious when Mr. Pearson left. I think he and Edward had an argument. I thought you'd be back to deal with whatever it was yesterday, but then the flights were delayed."

"I see." I honestly don't know what to say to her. She doesn't seem to know anything anyway. I will speak to Edward when he arrives—as his boss, not as his lover.

"Jazz, are you okay? I can tell something is wrong. Does it have something to do with Edward? Please understand I'm not asking you to betray his confidence, but I want to be here for _you_. Please let me help if I can."

"If I knew what the problem was, Ali, then maybe you could, sweetie."

"Oh, Jazz."

A loud knock on the door interrupts our moment.

"Do you have a moment, boss, we really need to talk." Mike is standing at my door, looking very agitated.

"Sure, Mike. Come in."

Alice stands but before she leaves says, "We'll talk later." I nod and watch her walk from the room.

"What can I do for you, Mike?"

"We had a few problems yesterday in the Pearson meeting. It didn't go as smoothly as it should have."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

He goes on to explain that the meeting was a shambles. According to Mike, Edward was disorganized, forgetful, and totally off his game. He believes he was able to turn things around enough for it not to be a problem—this time—and fortunately Mr. Pearson wasn't as 'on the ball' as he usually is, but as he reminds me, his expertise is not the same as Edward's and he's worried about how this may affect us finalizing the project on time.

"I'd like to meet with you and Edward today, please, Jasper. We need to fix this." Stopping, he just looks at me. "You need to have a word with him, boss." I'm curious as to whether he knows, or suspects, more than he's letting on.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>


	55. Chapter 55

_Friday, 8:55 am_

_What the hell is going on? _

Edward may have had continuing issues getting here on time, but he's never been anything less than professional once he does. Pushing fingers through my hair and letting out a deep sigh, I replay all of Mike's concerns in my head.

Of all the damned weeks for this to happen! We're so close to the end of the Pearson project; I curse Mr. Russell for summoning me to San Francisco. I'd have been here in that meeting with Edward and Mike if not for him…

Shaking my head at my foolishness, I stop worrying about things that I had no control over. They're in the past and all I can do is make sure we move forward smoothly. The first step in doing that is by having a productive team meeting this morning and a serious talk with Edward later.

Looking at my watch I realize I don't have enough time to go over any of this with Edward now. If I can get through the next couple hours, then I'll take some time to sit down and have a chat with him. Surely Alice will be able to organize things to give me a free half hour later this morning.

I stand and move for the door, pausing there before I walk through; anxious about seeing him, but wanting him to know—even if I can only give him a smile—that he has my support.

As soon as I look into the room I realize that he isn't there; that he hasn't been there. My eyes immediately seek Alice, and when they find her, the look on her face confirms my fears. It's almost nine; he's half an hour late.

"Any word?" I ask quietly once I reach her desk. She shakes her head. "So, no phone calls, no emails… nothing?"

"Sorry, Jazz, no. I tried his cell; it went to voicemail."

"Okay." Pausing I try and get my bearings, but my body is quivering with a combination of frustration and worry. "Could you get everyone settled in the meeting room? I'll be a few minutes."

"Sure." Her worried smile does nothing to ease my concerns.

I make my way into my office and straight to the coffee machine. It may not be traditional liquid courage but it sure works for me. With espresso in hand I call.

_You've reached the mailbox of Edward Cullen. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as… _

I listen to the end of his message, disappointed not to have reached him, but leave a message anyway. "Hey. Missed you this morning." I hadn't intended to start like that, but I can't help it. I'm not _just _his boss anymore, that's a fact, and I refuse to feel guilty for caring. "Where are you, Ed? I'm worried. Please let me know you're okay." There are so many other things I want to say, but now isn't the time nor is it the place.

Ending the call I slump into my chair, down the remainder of my coffee, and then run my hands through my hair—again. I'll probably give Edward a run for his money on ownership of that action today. Quickly typing out a text similar to my voice message I send it to his phone and stand. I need to let it go. I need to go into that meeting and get my team organized. I have no other choice.

_Friday, 11:25 am_

_You've reached the mailbox of Edward Cullen. Please…_

I leave another message and send another text.

_Where are you, love?_

_Friday, 1:20 pm_

Exiting the elevator I look for Alice; the silent shake of her head does nothing to waylay my fears.

_You've reached the mailbox of Edward Cullen. Please…_

_Friday, 2:38 pm_

"Thanks, Mr. Pearson. I look forward to seeing you Monday." Ending the call, I place my phone on the desk, then just as quickly pick it up again.

_You've reached the mailbox of Edward Cullen. Please…_

_Friday, 2:45 pm_

"I'm gonna grab some lunch, Ali. Be back within the hour."

I hit the elevator button but am too impatient to wait and make my way to the stairs, running down them, nearly tripping in my haste to get to the parking garage.

I'm thankful I didn't use Paul this morning, wondering how I'd explain my desperate need to get to Edward's house in the middle of the afternoon. Jumping into my car, I make the fifteen-minute drive easily; the traffic is light at this time of the day.

Pulling up front of his house, I hurry for the front door, knocking loudly once I reach it. My knocks are answered by the sound of Jacob's bark. "Hey, Jakey. It's just me, little buddy—Jasper." _As if the dog would know who the fuck I am anyway_. His barks don't cease, and nor do my knocks; I add my voice to the noise I'm making. "Edward? You there? Edward?"

"He's not there." I turn my head to the voice, my knocks ceasing at the same time. An older man stands on the next-door neighbor's porch. "He went out on his bike a few hours ago."

"Thank you, Sir. Did he say when he'd be back?"

"No. Didn't talk. Didn't look very happy either."

I nod and turn for my car.

_Friday, 8:55 pm_

No calls, no messages; he's not at his house.

Nothing.

_Saturday, 10:30 am_

Still nothing.

_Saturday, 2:25 pm_

I'm worried. Out of my mind.

_Please, love. Please let me know you're okay._

_Saturday, 10:45 pm_

Determined to try once more, I drive to his house. If he's not there… I don't know what I'll do.

Barks begin as soon as I start knocking, but there are no other sounds. Resigned, I lean my head against the heavy door, willing him to answer it.

I'm just about to back away when I hear footsteps and a mumbled, "It's okay, Jakey. I'm coming."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks, as always.<em>


	56. Chapter 56

_Saturday, 11:00 pm_

_He's home?_

My heart actually misses a beat when I realize all of my worry has been unfounded—to a point at least. He's here. He's safe.

_Oh, Edward._

I push back away from the doorway and stand, waiting for him to open the door. The time between hearing his words spoken quietly to Jacob and seeing the doorknob begin to turn seems to go on forever, and I wonder if Edward even realizes it's me. Is he hesitating? And if so, why? What's happened to change what we were building? It all seemed so perfect.

My emotions are a mixture of anger and fear. I'm angry because I don't understand. I'm scared because I don't understand. He won't talk to me; he won't explain.

I sensed him struggling with things on Monday, when he was so tired. He didn't want to talk and I didn't push. On Tuesday I was on top of the world; he fed me, he loved me. How the fuck did everything start to spiral out of control on Wednesday? How? And now here I stand, waiting to face God only knows what.

As soon as the door swings open, any anger I had falls away like an avalanche. It powers out of my body, because one look at him almost breaks me; I'm staring… gaping at a broken man.

"Why are you here, Jasper?" His voice is quiet… defeated.

Why am I here? _Why am I here?_

I take a step but he holds up a hand and shakes his head. "Go home, Jasper. You shouldn't be here."

"How can you say that? I want to be here. I _am_ here, Edward." His body slumps at my words. "I've wanted to be here all damned weekend. Haven't you been checking your messages?"

Without answering he turns and begins to move back into the house, but he doesn't shut the door—it's a wordless invitation that I'm not going to refuse. Shutting it behind me, I follow him through to the living room.

When I enter the room I find him seated in his leather armchair, perched on its edge with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He refuses to look at me, instead concentrating his eyes on the floor. Seating myself on the adjacent sofa, I watch him, wanting with everything that I am to just pull him into my arms.

"Where have you been, Ed? Why haven't you called me?"

Ignoring my questions, he speaks. "I can't sleep, Jasper. It controls my life, but it's a fact of it. It affects my work. You better than anyone else in the world knows this," he looks at me now, "and I can't expect for you to have to deal with it. It will affect me; it will affect you. I don't want you to be put in the position of having to cover for me. I can't ask that of you."

"I've said this before, Ed, I have no intention of covering for you. That won't do either of us any favors, but I _will_ help you. I'll help you work this out. Let me help you." I know my words plead with my last statement, but I can't help it—he needs to know how important he is to me.

"I don't want to put you through this shit, Jazz. You shouldn't have to deal with it. I'm fucked up… I'm broken, Jasper. You're better off without me. I can't allow—"

"You don't get to make that decision, Edward," I all but scream at him. "It's _my _decision to make. I'm a grown man. If I want to spend a few sleepless nights helping you get past this bullshit that you have to live through, then I will. To me it's a small price to pay. It's a small fucking price to pay for all the good… no damn that, the great times I know we can have."

I wish he'd stop shaking his head like it's… like _we're_ a lost cause. I wish he'd listen to what I'm saying to him.

I will him to look at me again; I need him to see I'm sincere.

"Edward, please look at me." He doesn't. "Love, please," I all but beg, and I'm about to stand and go to him when he speaks again.

"I don't understand why you'd bother. I'm not worth the trouble."

It all comes rushing back: his supposed indifference, his not accepting that I thought he was beautiful, this self-imposed seclusion he feels he so deserves.

"Why would I bother?" My quietly posed question is really for me, but he hears it and the pained eyes that look at me break my heart. I need to make him see how important he is to me. "Why would I bother?" I repeat the words with an added determination to my tone. "Haven't you seen how I am when I'm with you? Haven't you noticed how happy… how fucking euphoric I am when I'm with you?" I'm sure he's about to interrupt me with a 'but', and I keep going before he has a chance. "My life has had meaning for the past week that you've been in it—even with all the shit you've put me through."

He stands up and turns from me, ready to walk away. "That's right. All I do is put you through shit. You see… I'm not worth it."

I want to grab him. I want to shake some sense into him, but I don't. I just try again. "You are so very worth it, Edward. We can do this; we can do it if we do it together."

"I still don't understand why." He begins to walk away, but my next words stop him cold.

"_Why? _Because I love you, that's why!"

He turns slowly, and when his eyes meet mine I tell him again.

"I'm in love with you, Edward. That makes you worth it."

* * *

><p><em>:)<em>


	57. Chapter 57

_Saturday, 11:40 pm_

"You love me?" It's obvious that he can't quite believe what he just heard.

"Yes, Edward. I love you."

He scoffs, "Don't be fucking ridiculous."

The spear he's just thrown through my heart shatters it into a million pieces, but I can't back down; he needs to understand that I'm telling him the truth. That what I feel is real—so incredibly real.

"Why is it ridiculous? Because this," I gesture between us, "is so new?"

"That's just one reason."

Taking a few slow steps, I move closer. It's as if I need to be cautious so as not to startle him. "What if I said it's been longer than that for me?"

He laughs, but there's little humor to the sound. "I'd call bullshit."

"Well… it has." I take a few more steps.

"Bullshit." He takes one back.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't love but it sure was lust. I've wanted you for a long time; I've lusted for you… fantasized about you… for a long fucking time, Edward."

"Well that just confirms you're full of shit. All I did was make your life hell. There's no way you could have had any of those feelings for me."

"Yes, you did," I move again, "but I felt those things despite you being a pain in the ass." Is that a hint of a smile on his lips? "Because regardless of whether you believe me or not, that's how it is, and that's why I know now that what I feel for you is real. This time we've spent together has only confirmed how drawn I am to you, how desperately I want you in my life, and how much I want to be in yours."

I'm only one step away from him now and he hasn't moved away. I feel like I'm reaching out to a scared child as I reach my hand forward and take his, entwining our fingers together.

"I love you, Edward, so very much. Please let me." Rubbing my thumb gently across his palm, I move even closer.

"I don't… I'm not sure…" His eyes close and I so desperately want to reach up and rub a finger along his cheek, or across his brow, but I don't, I just continue to caress his hand, trying with all I am to emit a sense of calm and sincerity.

"I don't expect you to love me back, Ed. I know—"

His interjection surprises me. "It's not that, I…" Maybe it surprises him too because his words fade.

"As I was saying, I know this is new. I get that, but it doesn't make it any less real for me, Ed." I pull his hand up to my chest and cover it with mine over my heart. "This… this is what's real to me. How my heart stutters when you're close to me. How I sometimes find it hard to breathe when you kiss me. How all I want, every minute of the day, is to be close to you. That's how I know, Ed. That's how I know it's real."

Even in the dimness of the room, when he looks up again, I can see the shine of moisture reflected in his eyes. Lifting my free hand, I carefully run my thumb under his eye in an attempt to wipe away a stray tear that beads and then falls over his long eyelashes.

"That's how I know I love you," I repeat softly, needing to reassure him.

"I've never had anyone say anything like that to me before, I… I don't know what to say. I…"

"You don't have to say anything." Leaving his hand on my chest, I take mine and join it with its twin to tenderly cup his face. "You don't have to justify your feelings to me, love, but I really want you to understand mine."

How can no one have said anything even remotely similar to this amazing man before now? Is it even possible? He is beautiful and smart; the best-damned person I have ever met. If no one noticed that before, and I understand enough to realize that maybe it's just because he didn't allow anyone close enough to notice before, then their loss is definitely my gain.

"Let me love you, Edward." Leaning in, I allow my lips to lightly brush his. "Please let me love you."

Resting my forehead against his, I close my eyes and just wait. I wait for him to process my words; for him to understand I'm not going anywhere—even if the going gets tough—and I have no doubts that it will. I'm not foolish enough to believe that his insomnia will be magically cured just because I sleep next to him at night. We have numerous hurdles to clear; this is only one of them.

When his hands find the back of my head, anchoring me to him, I'm surprised, but nothing will make me give up this moment, especially if it's one he's prepared to initiate. "Jasper," he murmurs and then his lips are on mine. The kiss is tender but determined, and it quickly escalates into one of far more passion. I hold back though, not wanting our desire to overtake what is really important here at the moment. We have passion, an abundance of it, and I know that's not something we need to prove to each other. Understanding our emotions is what's important right now. I certainly understand mine; I need for Edward to as well.

Finally the kiss ends; it isn't a sudden movement, but a gradual conclusion. Edward buries his head into the crook of my neck and I feel his weight begin to bear down on me. It's a welcome weight, and I'm happy to support him if he'll allow me to.

Somehow we sink to the floor, huddled together on the plush carpet, and I hold him. I hold him with everything I have, showing him I always will.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading.<em>

_edwardsisobel is my beta, but more than that she is my friend, and beyond wonderful; she brought a tear to my eye with her comments about this chapter. Thank you, bb._


	58. Chapter 58

__**Edward**__

_Friday, 11:00 am_

Even with my helmet on the wind feels good, like it's scouring away my worries. Being on the Ducati forces me to concentrate on something other than Jasper, and it's something I so desperately need right now.

The I-90 out of Seattle is quiet at this time of day on a Friday, relatively quiet anyway, it's only me and what seems to be a million semi-trailers, but they keep me alert and on my game as I head east. I'm not sure where I'll stop and turn around, maybe North Bend or I might even get as far as Snoqualmie Pass. Either destination will give me enough time to think, even though that's all I've done lately—think. It doesn't seem to be getting me anywhere.

It's a beautiful, sunny summer's day and the landscape surrounding me as I ride along is spectacular, but even with all the good intentions in the world I find it hard to empty my mind of thoughts of Jasper, especially those of last night. A glance at my legs clad in his soft jeans reminds me again and my mind swims with images of us together.

He's like a siren: he calls to me, beckons me even when I want to resist, and I know I should. I should resist him with every bit of will power I have because he's good, he's the best kind of person. He's beautiful and kind, he's honest and generous—and all he'll get from me is heartache.

I've proved that again and again.

Last weekend was perfect, it was beyond perfect, unlike anything I've ever experienced. More than just sex, our relationship has grown quickly into something I can see myself being a part of for the rest of my life. I could love this man; maybe I already do. Having something as beautiful as this is what I want for the rest of my life, but I worry about what it will do to Jasper. I don't want to be a burden on him.

I slept—I slept so well. Even before I was in his bed, after he'd kissed me on Thursday night, I slept like I haven't slept in a long time. And then of course Friday and Saturday, sated and nestled in his arms, able to let go of all my problems as if none of them mattered anymore. How could anything matter anymore with him holding me the way he did. My world was perfect.

Then Sunday night came, and with it a return to everything that is 'normal' for me.

Hours upon hours of lying awake in the dark, tossing and turning until I can't stand it anymore, finally giving up and getting out of bed; anxiously trying to find something to do in the middle of the night that will help me sleep. It's not something I've learned to do well, if I had, I'd have cured myself a long time ago.

Instead, I waste my nights, the times when I should be sleeping... revitalizing... I waste them because I can't get my mind to shut off. It won't stop. And of course when I'm tired and desperately in need of slumber that's when my mind is the cruelest to me. It's a vicious cycle because the world doesn't alter its timetable for me. It requires me to run to its schedule—a schedule of full days and lazy nights—but it's a schedule I struggle to uphold.

It's not always that way. Sometimes my mind is kind to me. I can even have runs of weeks at a time where my body clock acts 'normally', or normally enough to allow me to function in the world I've chosen. I begin to believe I'm finally past it, that somehow I've gotten into 'somebody's' good graces enough to finally give me a break... and then it happens again. All it takes is one night—I struggle to turn myself off, I struggle to sleep, and when I finally do it's _never_ enough. I oversleep, I'm late for work, it turns me into a moody, difficult prick, and then it happens all over again—night after night. And I have no control—it rules me. It sure would have made life easier if I'd become a vampire, but I'm certainly not one of those.

Monday night I slept. I slept because I was sated and in his arms. Tuesday was perfect; we even managed our relationship at the office, but Tuesday night... I couldn't sleep. Wednesday was a disaster, and Thursday... fuck, not only did I get there late, I screwed up. I screwed up badly, and I've never done that before. All I could think about was how I was failing Jasper and how disappointed he'd be in me, and it all went to shit—total and absolute shit.

When he arrived at the office later that evening and pulled me into his arms, so fucking excited to see me, but totally unaware of what a fuck-up I was... that's when I knew I couldn't do it.

I _cannot_ put him through this. I _cannot_ drag him under with me. I _won't_ allow it to happen.

And there the problem lies.

He was home, not fifteen minutes away from me. He was all it would take to sooth my soul. His siren call sang to me, beckoning to me until I couldn't resist anymore and I went to him. Desperate for him, needing everything he could give me, but fighting with myself all the way. Knowing that it wasn't fair to have him fall for me and want me, knowing that it wasn't fair that I was falling for him—knowing that nothing about this would ever be fair.

The sound of a loud horn brings me back from my musings and I correct my bike, swerving back into my lane; I need to be more careful or there won't be a 'me' to make a decision for.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed getting into Edward's head. There will be more from Edward next chapter. <em>


	59. Chapter 59

_**Edward**_

_Friday, 5:20 pm_

When I return home late Friday afternoon, Jacob greets me as soon as I park in the garage; his nails clicking across the concrete floor as he walks.

"Hey, little buddy," I say, pulling off my helmet and bending to allow him to jump into my arms. He's so excited to see me and I have to admit it feels damned good to get that kind of unconditional love.

The house is quiet—too quiet—and as soon as I walk into the kitchen I notice the red light of the answering machine flashing. I've already heard his voice messages and read his texts on my cell. I wanted to call him back, let him know I'm okay, but something has stopped me every time. Something deep inside me cautions me... maybe if I avoid my problems they might go away. It's irrational, ridiculous even, but I let it rule me today. Just like this morning when I decided against going to work. I have _never_ been that irresponsible, and I wonder if I would have done it if Carlisle and Esme were there. Maybe? Maybe not? I really don't know; the stakes are worth so much more to me now. When it all comes down to it, the only thing that matters is Jasper, and he's better off without me.

I've no sooner fed Jacob and taken a beer from the fridge than the doorbell rings. It could possibly be Jasper but I doubt it; he'd still be at work.

"Edward. You home?" It sounds like Bill from next door and I wonder why he'd be calling for me? Another knock, followed by, "Edward!" It's definitely Bill.

"Coming," I call out impatiently and make my way to the door.

"Thank goodness you're home."

"What's the matter, Bill?" I ask, not understanding his concern.

"There was a man here for you earlier. Real insistent he was, knocking on your door and yelling out for you."

_Jasper was here in the middle of the day? Really?_

"Did you speak to him, Bill?"

"Told him you'd gone out on your bike. Hope you don't mind, but he..." he pauses, "he seemed very stressed."

"Was he a blond, business clothes?"

"Yeah. Nice car too. A '67 Must—"

"Thanks for letting me know, Bill." I go to walk back inside.

"I'm sorry for telling him, but he knew Jakey's name and he seemed... worried..."

"Really, Bill, it's fine. Thanks."

I hear him say goodbye as I close the door. He's a nice man, but I can't deal with him at the moment.

Sitting back down I recall the messages Jasper's sent me today. I can't imagine what's going on in his head. Well, I can, although I'm sure it's rather different to what's going on in mine. He's worried... confused, I can hear it in his voice in every message. He must wonder what he's done wrong. My guilt over leaving him alone in his bed this morning is eating me up, but it's just another reason that he's better off with out me.

.

When I wake on Saturday morning after only a couple hours sleep, it's to a sore neck and a headache. Moving my body and trying to stretch my muscles, I feel my foot meet the cold glass of a beer bottle at my feet. Looking at the ground I'm surprised by the seven empty bottles sitting there. I only vaguely remember sending myself into oblivion, but it was certainly welcome.

I'm just about to stand and go to the bathroom when my cell rings. _Jasper_. I walk toward my phone and even pick it up to answer, then decide against it and place it down on the hall table before walking to the bathroom.

The day drags on. I even turn my phone off just before lunchtime, not willing to listen to the constant reminder of my desertion, but even by doing that I can't escape my purgatory. It comes to me in the form of a phone call from Rose. I don't answer the phone but the message she leaves on my answering machine doesn't require me to:

_"You need to contact Jasper now, Edward. He's sick with worry. I have no idea what's going on in your head but you need to snap the fuck out of it and pull yourself together. Call him. Now!" _There's a slight pause but I can tell she hasn't hung up because I hear her mutter something to Emmett in the background. _"Please."_

I don't call him. I want to. I'm tempted to. But I don't.

The afternoon is spent with more of the same: me driving myself crazy by berating myself... over and over, until I finally notice the room darkening around me. Where has the day gone?

Jacob demands my attention and I walk outside with him, throwing the ball a few times before feeding him.

"I'm sorry I've haven't been much fun, my friend," I say as I place his food bowl down, rubbing my hand over his head. He wags his tail and I know I'm forgiven—if only it were always that simple.

_Saturday, 10:45 pm_

Jacob barks, signaling someone at the front door. I know immediately who it is. Should I ignore it, pretend I'm not home, just as I have all of the phone calls before it?

No. I need to face him. For his sake if not mine.

"It's okay, Jakey. I'm coming." When I get to the door I pause for a moment and look at the timber, scared to pull it open, but I do.

The beautiful but tortured man standing on my stoop stares at me. I ask why he's here then tell him to go home; tell him he shouldn't be here. His features turn from defeated to determined almost immediately. He asks how I can say that. He _wants _to be here; he's wanted to be here all weekend... if only I'd have let him.

* * *

><p><em>More from Edward today, and he'll be back next time. He has a bit more to say.<em>

_No beta today but edwardsisobel did pre-read some. Thanks, hon._


	60. Chapter 60

_**Edward**_

_Saturday, 10:55 pm_

Jasper follows me into the house and finds me sitting in my favorite chair. I don't look at him—I can't. If I look at him I know I'll break; I'll fall into his arms and I won't be able to say what I need to say. I won't be able to warn him how bad I am for him. And he should know... he deserves to know.

When he asks me where I've been and why I haven't contacted him, the tenor of his questions is enough to push me to talk. Without answering him directly, I begin to explain.

"I can't sleep, Jasper. It controls my life, but it's a fact of it. It affects my work. You better than anyone else in the world knows this," I look up, strengthened by my admission, "and I can't expect for you to have to deal with it. It _will_ affect me; it _will_ affect you. I don't want you to be put in the position of having to cover for me. I can't ask that of you."

He refutes me, telling me he'll help me, pleading for me to let him.

And again I negate myself, crying a sad song of self-pity that I can hear coming from my lips but am powerless to halt.

"You don't get to make that decision, Edward." He is incensed. "It's _my _decision to make. I'm a grown man. If I want to spend a few sleepless nights helping you get past this bullshit that you have to live through, then I will. To me it's a small price to pay. It's a small fucking price to pay for all the good… no damn that, the great times I know we can have."

Hearing the determination in his voice doesn't embolden me; it just pushes me a bit further into my abyss. I _can't _let him do this. I have to make him see that he's better off walking away—it's the only solution.

"Edward, please look at me." I don't. "Love, please," his voice begs, and my heart breaks just a little bit more at his use of 'love'; he shouldn't be feeling that way toward me.

I try to make him comprehend. "I don't understand why you'd bother. I'm not worth the trouble."

_Truly, I'm not._

"Why would I bother?" he says so softly I barely hear him, and I search his eyes for confirmation of his words. "Why would I bother?" he repeats with more verve. "Haven't you seen how I am when I'm with you? Haven't you noticed how happy… how fucking euphoric I am when I'm with you?" My heart is pounding at his resolve—could I really mean so much to him? "My life has had meaning for the past week that you've been in it—even with all the shit you've put me through." And those words bring me tumbling down again. He knows I'm wrong for him even if he fights it.

Standing up, I turn away. "That's right," I say, resigned to our fate—accepting of it. "All I do is put you through shit. You see… I'm not worth it."

"You are so very worth it, Edward. We can do this; we can do it if we do it together."

I begin to leave the room. "I still don't understand why."

"_Why?_" he repeats."Because I love you, that's why!" His words stop me, and turning I look at him. "I'm in love with you, Edward. That makes you worth it."

His words leave me cold. An endearment is one thing; a declaration is another.

"You love me?"

"Yes, Edward. I love you."

_How could he?_ Besides, _I'm not worthy of his love._

"Don't be fucking ridiculous." I know my words are harsh, but I truly didn't expect this—not yet. Even though my own feelings are an avalanche of emotions that barrel over me in waves of lust and desire, caring and maybe even... No! I can't think that way. And I can't allow him to think that way. I'm not good for him and I need to be cruel to be kind.

"Why is it ridiculous? Because this," his hand gestures between us, "is so new?"

"That's just one reason." _New_, it's only been a fucking week.

"What if I said it's been longer than that for me?" With his words come a few steps toward me.

_No fucking way. Impossible_. I'm unable to evade a mocking laugh. "I'd call bullshit."

"Well… it has." He steps closer again.

"Bullshit." Like same-magnets repelling, I move away.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't love but it sure was lust," he defends. "I've wanted you for a long time; I've lusted for you… fantasized about you… for a long fucking time, Edward."

"Well that just confirms you're full of shit. All I did was make your life hell. There's no way you could have had any of those feelings for me." It's impossible; he _hated_ me. Even as I think it I know it's not true, he's never hated me, maybe it's just that I hate myself.

"Yes, you did," he agrees as he steps closer again—I don't back away, "but I felt those things despite you being a pain in the ass." I can't help but be affected by his agreement of my foibles and for the first time since he got here I feel hope. He continues, "Because regardless of whether you believe me or not, that's how it is, and that's why I know now that what I feel for you is real. This time we've spent together has only confirmed how drawn I am to you, how desperately I want you in my life, and how much I want to be in yours."

Taking my hand in his, I feel my walls crumbling. Maybe I shouldn't fight this. Maybe I should let him love me, let him show me I can be loved—allow myself to love him.

* * *

><p><em>Edward's thoughts were too important for me to gloss over. What began as a one-chapter POV, quickly snowballed into four. Some of you are thankful for that, some of you not so much, but it is what it is. <em>

_Thanks for reading._


	61. Chapter 61

_If you haven't read Chapter 60, posted only minutes ago, please do so first..._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Edward<strong>_

_Saturday, 11:15 pm_

"I love you, Edward, so very much. Please let me." He takes another step, putting himself directly before me, and his proximity begins to comfort me.

"I don't… I'm not sure…" Closing my eyes as I try to articulate what I want to say, I'm scared that he misinterprets my stutters, but his fingers keep brushing my palm.

"I don't expect you to love me back, Ed. I know—"

_No!_ "It's not that, I…" How do I make him understand that maybe I already do?

"As I was saying, I know this is new. I get that, but it doesn't make it any less real for me, Ed." When he pulls my hand up to his chest, covering the space over his heart, my dam breaks, and emotion soars through my body. "This… this is what's real to me. How my heart stutters when you're close to me. How I sometimes find it hard to breathe when you kiss me. How all I want, every minute of the day, is to be close to you. That's how I know, Ed. That's how I know it's real."

_Oh, Jasper._

My eyes tear—I'm unable to stop the visible emotion from starting to flow from my body. As he wipes away a tear from under my lashes with his thumb, my heart fills, and I can feel his love. It surrounds me.

"That's how I know I love you." His words are soft, an assurance.

I want to crumble into his arms as the emotion of his words hits me like a freight train. "I've never had anyone say anything like that to me before, I… I don't know what to say. I…"

"You don't have to say anything." Warm hands cup my face as he looks into my eyes. "You don't have to justify your feelings to me, love, but I really want you to understand mine."

Words that have never been spoken with more sincerity, wrap around my body, cocooning me in their reality.

"Let me love you, Edward." Soft lips brush over mine. "Please let me love you."

Standing there together for long moments reinforces everything he has told me, admitted to me, asked of me. I can do this: I can let him love me; I can love him. _Yes_. I can love him.

"Jasper." I whisper his name with reverence, and then find his lips, trying with everything in me to show him that I'm ready, that I want to try this with him. I want more with him. _No_. I want everything with him.

The kiss is all that a kiss should be. It's the meeting of two hearts... two souls. When it begins to burn out of control, taking us to a place we've been before but probably shouldn't go to now, I feel him harness its flames. Thankful of his capacity to do this at the moment, because I don't think I could—I'm not strong enough. Everything is raw fuel to me at the moment, kindling ready to combust. But kindling burns brightly and then dies; it doesn't flicker away as long drawn-out embers, and that's what we need. We need to build a fire that will continue to burn and smolder—and it will if we treat it right; if we revere everything about it.

When the kiss ends, it isn't because the kindling has burned out. It's because our fire needs oxygen and attention, and I'm happy for it to have that.

Pushing my forehead into the crook of Jasper's neck brings with it a slew of emotions that almost overwhelm me. I'm so thankful he's holding me—his arms are strong and supportive as they wrap around me—but even with them enveloping me, it's all too much. Everything that has happened this week, everything that has happened over the last few years, it all overpowers me. It comes crashing down on me like a tidal wave. My legs, my body; my heart, my soul, my mind; they all give out on me and I sink to the floor. He doesn't let me fall alone though, he is right there with me—he is my rock, my anchor—still cocooning me in his arms on the rug, showing me that I can count on him; proving that he will always be there.

The tears that glinted in my eyes turn into deep overwhelming sobs as the emotional surge tries to escape me. They wrack my body: strong tremors that leave me spent on the floor. And he's there for every gut-wrenching one of them, holding me close and whispering words of love and support in my ear. I can feel his hand rubbing gentle circles on my back, and his lips leaving delicate kisses against my eyes, my cheeks, my hair.

"Let's go upstairs, Edward. It's late, love, let's try and get some rest." He stands, reaching his hand out for mine. I take it and he holds it firmly in his all the way to my bedroom. After undressing me down to my... his tee and briefs, he pulls back the duvet and I climb into bed, watching as he removes his own clothes and follows me.

We lie on our sides, facing the other, our eyes are locked together, his foot's touching mine. Nothing is said; we've said enough for tonight. We'll talk—really talk—tomorrow.

As my eyes begin to close, I wonder what I ever did to deserve him, and I still don't believe I do, but I'm going to hold onto him with everything I have. I'm not going to fuck this up again. I'm going to fight hard to be the best I can be for him, and when it gets tough—and I know it will—I'm not going to retreat into myself, I'm going to give him a chance to help me through it. And I know he will; I've never been surer of anything in my life.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed getting into Edward's head. Thanks for reading.<em>

_No beta today, all mistakes are my own._

_Next update: Sunday._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	62. Chapter 62

_Jasper is back…_

* * *

><p><em>Sunday, 8:15 am<em>

The serene face I observe belies the turmoil of the last few days. If only I could keep him here like this, with me, every day. If only...

I've been lying here, dozing in and out of awareness, for a couple hours. I got up earlier and fed Jacob, ensuring that Edward wouldn't be disturbed before he's had enough rest, and now I wait. I'm in no hurry—I'll wait for him all day if he needs me to.

Not long after I got back into bed he rolled over, nestling into my arms, subconsciously searching for contact, and I don't want to let him go. I crave every moment I can get because I can't help admitting to myself that I'm scared—I'm petrified that when he wakes up he'll run again; that he'll push me away and retreat back into himself. I'd like to think that he showed me with his actions last night that he will try, that he will fight for us, but I'm not convinced. They were the actions of a broken, exhausted man, and as much as I hope and pray that he won't wake up this morning with a clear mind, returning to the belief that we don't stand a chance, there is a small part of me that believes that is exactly what he will do. And if he does... I will be the one who's broken.

As I gaze at his beautiful face, admitting every single one of his features to memory, I realize that my heart is aching with the love I feel for him. It is an intense clench in my chest that I can't imagine is healthy. Should love feel this way, or is it just the uncertainty that he won't return my affection? I don't know. I have never felt even a fraction of this kind of emotion for anyone before; it is overwhelming in its intensity. Losing him for the short time that I did—and that's what it was—pushed me into admitting my feelings, but now that I have, I can never go back.

I love him. It is that simple.

Movement pulls me out of my musings and my eyes meet his. Sleepy green focuses on me and then he smiles... He smiles and my heart soars. His hand reaches over to caress my face and then he leans in. He leans in and his lips brush mine with the softest of touches. A touch that confirms to me that I am not alone—he is here with me every step of the way, and he _will_ be here, heart and soul. Every. Step. Of. The. Way.

_I love you, Edward._

I don't say it again out loud, because I still feel I need to be cautious, but I think it... over and over and over. I love him, and I'm his.

Turning in my arms he settles so that his face is before mine and again he kisses me. It begins slow and delicate and I revel in every moment of it—it is perfect. He intensifies it, and still it is perfect. Every moment of it proves that he wants this... that he's willing to try... willing to fight for us.

But I know where we're heading. This intensity always leads to one thing, and I'm not sure it's the right time. We need to talk. We so desperately need to talk.

I pull back. "Ed, we need to stop, love." He doesn't, he continues to pepper my face with his kisses. "Ed, we need to talk. We need to talk first. Please."

Still he persists. "Not yet," he whispers. "I need you, the words can wait, Jazz." His hands cup my face as his lips continue over my skin. "Make love to me, baby."

_No, no, no, no, no. _We need to talk, but my body is already defying my logic: hardening, burning for him.

"Please, Jazz. I need you to love me. Please," he begs, but it isn't his tone that throws me, it's his words. He didn't say he wants me to 'make love to him', he said he wants me to 'love him'—I didn't miss that, I couldn't—and because I do, so very much, I can't deny him. Not this.

.

I love him with everything in me. I love him with my lips and my fingers, with my teeth, my tongue and my hands, playing every part of his body until he's begging me for more.

I prep him reverently, easing my fingers into his body as my tongue laves his erection, leaving him panting and moaning... begging for more.

"Jesus, Jazz... oh..." he cries. "So good... so fucking good."

Reaching my hand up to his chest I hold him down when I feel him straining to try and sit up. "Stay there, love. Just enjoy," I say in-between licks. "Let me love you." He whimpers and threads his fingers into my hair, allowing me to suck him deep into my throat.

The sounds he makes spur me on. They are full of need and desire and… love?

When he is close to losing it I pull away, hastily sheathing myself and moving up his body. His eyes meet mine, holding my stare, and as I slowly push into his body he murmurs, "Love me."

Strong legs wrap around my body, gentle hands cup my face, and eyes full of devotion never leave mine as I roll my hips gently against his and show him my love.

.

Rubbing my finger lightly across his brow, I smile as I look into his eyes, confirming that everything that just happened was wonderful and that I don't regret a thing, but wanting him to understand that our relationship can't move forward if it's only physical.

"We need to talk... Now."

"I know."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_No beta today, all mistakes are my own._

_Next update: Tuesday._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	63. Chapter 63

_Sunday, 8:30 am_

"Go use the bathroom and I'll make us coffee," I suggest, kissing him once more before pulling away. "Do you want to talk here or in the living room?"

"I'd like to come back here." Grasping my arms he pulls me back, kissing me softly. "It's certainly cozy."

"To talk, Ed, not for sex." I implore him.

"I know, Jazz." The most beautiful yet coy smile passes his lips. "That doesn't mean we can't snuggle while we talk."

"Snuggle I can do."

The view of his naked ass as he walks from the bed holds my attention until he moves through the bathroom door and out of sight. _I am one lucky son-of-a-bitch_, I think and climb out of bed, grabbing my jeans and pulling them over my bare ass on my way to the kitchen.

Jacob greets me, wagging his tail madly as I search the kitchen cupboards looking for filter papers and cups. It doesn't take long though until the heady smell of a rich brew is permeating the space around me.

Checking that Jacob has plenty of dog biscuits, I then squat down in front of him and rub his ears. "He'll be okay, buddy, I'm gonna make sure of it," I tell him quietly, trying to reassure myself obviously, but it's as if he understands me; his tail stops waging and he cocks his head to the side and looks at me—just stares. He's one bright little dog.

"Are you talking to yourself?" The question surprises me and looking to the doorway I find Edward leaning against the doorjamb. He looks all kinds of delicious and sexy in only _my _jeans.

Fuck, I hope he didn't hear me. "Nope," I reply, trying to avoid any answer or reaction that may be incriminating. "Just having a chat with Jakey here," I add and rub his ear again before he realizes Edward's there and trots over to greet his master.

"Just as well. I might not want you if I think you're crazy."

I can't help but laugh. "You want me. In fact, I'm pretty sure you're..." pausing, I fill two cups with coffee, "crazy about me."

After petting Jacob lightly, he moves in behind me, locking me against the counter. I can feel him pressed against the entire length of me, the hardening bulge in his pants pushing into me. When he nudges my hair out of the way with his nose and then proceeds to kiss the back of my neck lightly, I shiver, but resist sinking back into him. I can't allow him to steamroll me; he makes it very hard though.

"I am definitely..." he murmurs against my ear, blowing a breath of air as he pauses, "crazy about you, Jazz."

_Fuck!_

I must be strong.

Gripping both cups in my hands, I push backward and turn, handing him his. When he has it and is staring at me, obviously surprised by my resistance, I take his free hand in mine and begin to walk from the kitchen. Without looking back, I say, "We're going to talk, Ed. You're not getting out of it," and keep walking, leading him behind me. I'm sure I hear him "humph" but he follows me anyway.

I don't hesitate when we get there, placing my cup on the side table then climb immediately onto the mattress and arrange the pillows so that we can recline comfortably. He watches me, sipping at his coffee, but as soon as I'm settled with my back supported against the headboard, I beckon him, patting the spot beside me.

"Come on."

He does, he climbs up, nestling in beside me. Our bodies are angled toward each other and I can see his discomfort clearly. Gone is the confident man of only minutes ago—he knows I won't allow him to avoid this any longer and it's evident that he's scared. He needs to know that I'm here for him. No. Matter. What.

"I love you." They're the only words he needs right now, and I say them hoping to instill some small modicum of confidence in him—and his confidence in me.

I wait.

The silence is deafening. What seems like hours is only minutes—I know this—and I'm patient.

He begins.

"My head's a funny place when I don't get sleep." His eyes are focused on his cup as he rubs his thumb against the handle. I let him be—let him go at his own pace. "It's a vicious cycle really. No sleep leads to a cranky Edward. A cranky Edward leads to a stressed Edward. A stressed Edward finds it hard to escape himself, which of course means no sleep... Then it starts all over again."

For a moment I wonder why he's speaking in the third person. Maybe that's what he has to do to separate himself from it all. I don't know. It doesn't matter.

"I've told you it's been like this for a long time, since school—about ten years. The pressure of studying and assignments were the catalyst I think. It's hard to pinpoint an exact moment, I don't remember one, and there's no particular reason. All I know is that when I'm under pressure, or stressed, I tend to fall into the 'cycle'. It doesn't even always happen. As you know, there are times when I sleep. There are nights when I sleep well. The problem is that I have little say in when they occur."

I can't say I understand, but he doesn't really either.

"It's been particularly bad for a while now; you know this. Look at the arguments we were having recently... well, before last week." He looks to me now and smiles; reaching out I take his hand. "Last weekend was amazing, and not just because of you, but I slept, I really slept, and then..." his voice trails off.

Reaching out I cup his face, keeping focus on his eyes. "Ed, what happened last week?"

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. Their talk is nowhere near over.<em>

_No beta today, all mistakes are my own._

_Next update: Thursday._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	64. Chapter 64

_Reaching out I cup his face, keeping focus on his eyes. "Ed, what happened last week?"_

* * *

><p>"Hmm... What happened? That's a very loaded question." His eyes bore into mine but his expression still seems resigned rather than resistant. "You. Me. Us. All of the above. None of the above. I really have no fucking idea." Breaking our visual connection he looks down and shakes his head slightly. "It's a bit like asking what came first? The chicken or the egg? There are always arguments to try and prove both sides. It's no different for me. Is my mind the chicken or the egg, Jazz?"<p>

When he looks back at me again, there's no doubting the sincerity of his question; I'm just not sure I understand what he's asking.

"The thing is, it works both ways. Let's think of one scenario as 'the chicken'. One bad night's sleep can start the cycle just as easily as a stressful day. I might have had a great day at work, or out on my bike, or wherever," he gives me a shy yet sensual smile, "it could have been productive, fun, tiring, all of the things that 'should' make me sleep like a baby. I even go to bed tired sometimes, hopeful and praying to everything out there that 'this will be the night'. Hell, maybe that's the issue. I do tend to overthink." He lets out a rather diffident chuckle.

I'm tempted to grasp his hand tighter, or touch his face, reassure him in some way, but I don't, I let him continue.

"Then we have 'the egg' days. The days that should run smoothly because I slept well the night before. _Should_... you've gotta love that word. But that isn't life is it—life doesn't run smoothly just because we want it to. A disagreement, the stress of a deadline, either of those plus a myriad of other things might keep me awake. Regardless of how tired I am; honestly, my eyes could be burning with need for sleep, but I can't shut off. The thing is, *all the things you worry about are magnified in the silence*, Jazz. It doesn't help that I'm prone to worry. I know I overthink, I always have. I tend to be a glass half empty person rather than a glass half full type, and I let the level fall even lower this week."

I'm not surprised by his words; they make sense to me. I'm just so saddened that the tone of them is so self-depreciating. He really doesn't see himself like I do. I start to speak, not really sure of what I'm going to say, but he stops me anyway, bringing his hand up to my face and running his forefinger across my lips, effectively halting my words. The motion is tender, beautiful really, and all I want to do is pull him into my arms. Show him with actions that none of this matters—none of it!

"Jazz," he starts, shuffling his body around so that he is looking directly at me. This new determination shoots a spark through me and I'm not sure why, but I continue to only listen. "When you left... no, let me rephrase that. When you went home on Sunday afternoon I can't even explain the emptiness I felt. It was like a loss, like something tangible that leached into my bones with its intensity. I stood there with Jacob in my arms—something that ordinarily grounds me—and I couldn't find any joy in it at all. I—"

"Ed, lov—"

He doesn't let me continue. "I spent the rest of the night drifting and when it was finally time for bed I couldn't stop myself. I'm an idiot, Jazz." I shake my head no, but he continues, "Only an idiot would turn what happened over that weekend into anything but thoughts of perfection, but not me. All I could think about was that we're so new, that I can't let myself rely on you to be in my bed every night. I can't place that on you, Jazz, that wouldn't be fair. I thought of work, of our team, of Esme and Carlisle... you name it, I thought of it. I think I finally dozed off at about three-thirty, but I didn't sleep. That's why I was on time, but I was exhausted."

"I did ask you about that, Ed. I gathered you hadn't slept. Why didn't you tell me then, love?"

His hand returns to my face and he caresses my jaw. "I couldn't admit all of that to you."

"You could've."

"I'm only realizing that now."

"You can always confide in me. I _want_ you to confide in me." He nods. "And you slept on Monday night with me. You did, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did, and that just reinforced my fear of being dependent on you and it being so early... too early, Jazz, for that kind of dependence. It was all I could think about after our phone call on Tuesday night."

Pulling him into my arms I hold him tightly and when I feel him relax a bit I ask, "Was it like that all week?" He confirms with another nod. "What happened with Mike?"

"Mike and I worked hard getting organized for that meeting and then I was late... Pearson pulling out of that meeting on Wednesday was a godsend. I truly thought I'd dodged a bullet. Then I was late again on Thursday. Jazz, I just felt like a failure."

"Ed, not to rub salt into wounds, but you've been late before many meetings."

"I can't explain it. All I know is that I spiraled into a very deep hole during that meeting. That's when I decided you were better off without me."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then lean forward resting my forehead on his. "Can you promise me something? Please don't make decisions for me, even if you feel they are for the best. Only I can do that, love. We need to do that together."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. Thursday night—when he turned up on his bike—and Friday explained next chapter.<em>

_Apologies for the missed update on Thursday. I'm disappointed in myself because in 64 chapters it is the first time I have missed updating when I said I would, but it couldn't be avoided. Thanks to those who were concerned about why I hadn't. You truly made me smile._

_No beta today, all mistakes are my own. My amazingly sensational beta, edwardsisobel, is busy, busy working on something that is much more important than reading over my fluff, and believe me, I am championing her doing that instead with everything in me. You go girl!_

_* I would though like to thank 17 Forever Lisa, who even though she may not realise she helped me out with this chapter, she did. Even if it was just to confirm with her beautiful and thoughtful words that I'm on the right track to describing this insidious mongrel of a thing called Insomnia._

_Next update: Tuesday._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	65. Chapter 65

_Previously ... "Can you promise me something? Please don't make decisions for me, even if you feel they are for the best. Only I can do that, love. We need to do that together." _

* * *

><p><em>Sunday, 9:40 am<em>

"You're right, I know that, but I've done it my whole life. At least I think I have. It's not intentional in that I want to control, it's just me... always thinking, always worrying about everything. I need to work on it and I'll do my best—I will, I promise."

I can't ask for more than that at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jazz, I'm so sorry," he continues after a pause. I can feel his head moving with his words while he apologizes, but he needs to stop this. We can't move forward with this sense of foreboding hanging over us.

Pulling back I take his face in my hands and hold him firm. I can't let him continue to wallow in this. We need to face it—together—if we have any chance of moving forward.

"Ed, look at me." It takes him a moment, but his eyes finally lift and he looks into mine. "Please stop apologizing to me. The last few days happened; there's nothing we can do about them now but learn from them and move forward."

"But I—"

"But nothing." Letting go of his face I take his hands in mine, squeezing them gently to punctuate my stern words. "Ed, I'm here. I'm here with you despite the last few days. I'll admit I don't really understand why you ran, but you're not running now. You're here." _Thank God_, I think as I watch his eyes close and him breathe deeply, then he looks into my face again. "We're here now, together, love, and do you know what that tells me? It tells me we can do this. It tells me that this connection between us is strong—that it's worth fighting for."

There are long silent moments, where I just let him be to think. He keeps his eyes trained on mine and his hands hold mine tightly, as if he's not even daring to let them go, unwilling to break the connection. Finally he speaks.

"We're worth it, Jazz, I know we are. More importantly, you're worth it." I watch his eyes tear and my heart clenches in my chest with what he's admitting to me. "I want to fight for us. I want to give us a chance."

"You do?"

"I really do."

I can't help the huge smile that widens my face. Pulling his hands to my lips I place quick kisses across all of his knuckles and tell him, "I love you, Edward Cullen. I really love you." As soon as the last word is out of my mouth, his lips meet mine and he kisses me so sweetly that I almost swoon. Letting go of his hands, I wrap my arms lovingly around him and hold him tightly to my body. I need the connection so desperately—it's a quiet reassurance that he won't be able to leave again.

It seems he has no intention of doing so though, because even while our kisses continue he moves himself to straddle my thighs. The move isn't overtly sexual, instead it's encouraging... grounding. My hands move down and cup his ass; the feel of the soft denim of my jeans causes my heart to thump and my dick to react.

"Love you in my jeans," I murmur as his lips find my neck and lick and kiss gently along my clavicle.

"I love wearing your jeans." I feel it when his teeth nip along the bone. "Haven't wanted to take them off." When he leans back to meet my eyes with his own again, the connection is immediate. "They kept me joined to you, even when I was fighting myself so hard to stay away."

All I can do as I hear his words is picture him when he turned up at my house on Thursday night. He was—at that moment—singularly the sexiest thing that I had ever seen.

"Fuck, Ed." I can't help but punctuate my words with a thrust of my hips and a squeeze of my hands. "When I opened the door the other night and saw you... God! I can't explain how hot you looked and what it did to me." Reaching up with one hand I thread it into the silky hair at the nape of his neck, moving with him while he continues to pepper me with kisses as I talk. "The jacket... the boots... You were so demanding. Then when you pulled off your jacket and I saw—" I gasp loudly when he sucks my skin between his lips. "_Jesus!_" Mumbled words are whispered against my skin, but he doesn't pull away, and he _doesn't _stop sucking me. He's going to mark me and I don't care. I don't care about anything other than what's happening here now.

"I had to come see you. I couldn't stay away." Looking up again, our eyes meet. I can see his regret. "I shouldn't have fought myself, I shouldn't—"

"It doesn't matter," I repeat. I know I will repeat that phrase over and over until he realizes I mean it. "You came—in _my_ clothes," I sigh at the memory, "and it was incredible. Every time with you is incredible, Ed—better than the last."

Legs bent and kneeling above me, he moves his hands into my hair, scraping his nails across my scalp when his fingers move to take hold. His weight pushes me into the pillows; it's a delightful feeling. I don't feel dominated though—we're equals in every way. If I can make him see that... we'll be perfect.

I fall back and he changes position, stretching out to lie along me. Our naked torsos slide deliciously together and even through our clothed lower halves, I feel the sparks of passion igniting. Every moment like this is a promise of more. More of him, more of this.

He surprises me when he speaks.

"I think I love you, Jasper."

Sweeter words have never been said.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for being here.<em>

_Layne Faire was kind enough to have a look over this today. Thanks loads, bb. _

_I updated my TwiKink entry... again! Couldn't help myself. Jump over to my profile and check it out: __**Pushed to the Edge**__ - Chapter 3 - The Scene. It's naughty but you might like it._

_Next update: Not going to promise anything this time. Hopefully it will still be Thursday._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	66. Chapter 66

_I just made it for posting on an official Sunday—according to fanfiction at least. Enjoy!_

_._

_Previously ... _

_"I think I love you, Jasper."_

_Sweeter words have never been said._

* * *

><p><em>Sunday, 12:30 pm<em>

The day is amazing, showcasing a perfect, blue-sky afternoon, with only a few fluffy white clouds scattered across the vast expanse of blue I can see from my vantage point near the barbecue. I stand, watching over the steaks Edward asked me to put on to grill only minutes before, and look around, appreciating everything about today. I have a lot to be thankful for, not the least being that the man I love has admitted he's falling—or maybe he's even fallen—for me as well, and I couldn't be happier.

"Beer?"

It's not like his question is necessary for me to realize he's there; I sense him as he moves up behind me and offers me the ice-cold beer in his hand. My body is so sensitive to his proximity that I can almost feel every hair on my body straining toward him, electricity sparking over my skin, and it takes everything in me to stutter out my response. "Th— thanks."

"You're very welcome." He chuckles as he hands me the cold bottle and then nuzzles against the back of my neck.

"And what's so funny?" I ask, tempting him to talk and explain everything he's feeling.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." His words are followed by gentle nips along the exposed skin of my shoulder and I can feel the stretch of my t-shirt as his nose pushes it out of the way. My body is putty to him and I can't help but react to his ministrations, allowing my muscles to relax as I sink backward into him. "Steady," he cautions, but he doesn't stop his assault on my skin.

With my free hand I reach back and push it into his hair, anchoring his body close to mine. Even with his admission of his feelings earlier, we haven't progressed much further than kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. Gentle, sensual kissing, and even hot passionate kissing, but we've stopped each time, determined not to rush past this perfect calm we have cocooning us.

When I turn my head and search for his lips, I see a dazzling smile on his face. He truly is beautiful, and at this moment it seems his euphoria is mirroring mine. As our lips meet I let out the breath I've been holding and pull his face even closer. Everything about this moment is perfect.

Sharp toenails and a persistent panting-come-barking sound breaks us from our moment, and I look down to find Jacob prancing about our feet. I can't help but think how different he is in his interactions with us to Sebastian. I hope that one day—one day soon—they'll learn to get on, and it won't be an issue that needs resolving like we've had to do with so many other things already. It's hard to believe, considering how new this all is, how many hurdles we've already been made to jump. If I didn't know it was 'so right', I'd have given up already—but it is. Everything about this man is 'right'—he's worth it all.

Edward pulls away and when I turn I find him looking down at his little dog. He begins talking to him about the smell of the meat and how he knows Jacob wants some. It's totally sweet and proves to me again what sort of man Edward is. He has an enormous heart capable of so much love and I intend to demonstrate every day that he's worthy of the same in return.

My thoughts are interrupted by his words and I realize he's already removed the meat from the grill and is holding the plate in his hand. "... let's eat this before it cold."

"Ah, sure."

"Lost you for a bit there, Jazz?"

"No, not really." I don't say anymore, just smile, and follow him to the dining table inside, where I find a huge bowl of dressed salad and the crusty baguette I'd left him putting into the oven to warm when I went outside with the steaks. "This looks great. I'm starving."

"Me too. I haven't eaten much over the last couple days."

It would be easy to get into another one of 'those talks' right now and I don't want that, so I change the subject. "So, let's eat!"

The meal is simple but delicious and it's not long before we're in the kitchen cleaning up together, with him washing-up and me wiping and putting away. It's a comedy of errors really and we should probably be doing the opposite tasks because I have absolutely no idea where anything goes and have to ask him over and over. As he hands me the last item, a large glass salad bowl, I shake my head and say, "So... where do you want it?"

Instead of an answer I receive a flick of soapy bubbles onto my face instead. I'm so surprised that I pause in my steps and stare at him. He doesn't seem phased by my reaction and does it again, and then with all seriousness adds, "I told you, Jazz. Weren't you listening?"

I place the wet bowl on the bench and take the two steps needed to get close to him. "You told me, did you? Funny, I don't remember." As I say the words slowly and deliberately, I reach down into the sink and scoop up as many suds as my hand can hold then gently press them into his face.

It's obvious he's surprised that I did that because he stutters out, "What the..." as he attempts to wipe his face with the back of his hand.

"Didn't you like that, Ed?" As he blinks the bubbles away, trying to focus on me, I continue, "You can dish it out, love, but can't take it." I add a 'tsk tsk' to the shake of my head.

He throws the cloth in the sink then grasps my wrists. "You, my dear man, are going down."

_Yes, please._

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for being here.<em>

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	67. Chapter 67

_Sunday, 1:45 pm_

"Jesus!" I exclaim, as Edward uses the grip he has on my wrists and pushes me roughly back against the counter. No sooner has he done so, than his mouth finds mine. The kiss is demanding and hot as hell.

I can't reach for him with my arms held forcefully at my sides, but I can kiss him with all I have—and I do, matching his fervor perfectly.

In no time at all we've progressed from only kissing to so much more. He still holds my arms at my sides, but his body is hard alongside mine... In every way!

His erection, hard as steel, is moving with his body as he ruts his hips and moves against me, and I can feel every inch of him. The denim is coarse on my bare skin, but it too is a pleasurable pain, affording me a small portion of the friction I need at the moment.

I try to pull my wrists from his grasp, but he doesn't allow it—his forcefulness arouses me even more.

"Need you..." I moan when he begins his attentions on the skin of my shoulder. Again he noses the fabric out of the way, trying desperately to find more flesh. "Take it off." I move my arms in his grasp. "Yours too. Want to feel your skin."

I'm sure he growls. His hands leave my wrists and he reaches for the hem of my tee, pulling it quickly over my head and throwing it onto the floor. Rather than reaching for him, my arms fall back to my sides; I'm totally mesmerized by the hungry look in his eyes as he pulls off his own piece of clothing.

As the fabric moves over his head, obscuring his eyes and breaking our connection, it's as if a light bulb goes off in my head, and I suddenly feel released from his pull. _Mine_, I think and round on him, pushing him now into the position of being pinned against the barrier of the counter.

I waste no time at all in attaching my lips to his throat... his shoulders. Down to his firm pecs, where I spend long moments tonging and nibbling at his tight nipples. His chest rises with his deep breaths and his reaction to what I'm doing spurs me on; leaving his chest, I begin to move farther down his delectable torso.

"So good," he says. "Always so good. I love you touching my body, baby. I—" His words are abruptly cut short when I push my tongue into his navel, eliciting a shiver that resonates through his whole body.

I pull away long enough to reply, "I love touching your body." _I do—so damned much!_

His hands find my head, and he's not shy in pushing me back so that I can continue what I was doing. I love his desperation for me.

As I get closer to his cock, I begin to smell his unique muskiness. _God, it turns me on._ I'm bent over now, and as I move lower I begin to feel too far away from his body. Standing tall, I face him again, and after giving him a chaste kiss, I move my mouth close to his ear and say, "I'm gonna suck your cock now, love." His deep intake of breath doesn't surprise me. "Do you want that?"

As I speak I reach for the buttons of his jeans and begin to slowly undo them, exposing him fully. As soon as his cock pops free I take it firmly in hand and give it a few deliberate pulls. He's weeping profusely and I can't help but run my thumb over the tip, coating my finger with the sticky liquid.

"Oh, yeah," I tease, then run my tongue along the shell of his ear. "You want that _bad_, don't you, gorgeous?"

His hips thrust, pushing his length into my hand. I grip harder with the action and he moans again.

"Suck me, baby." Another thrust. "Suck me... make me come."

Certainly. Your wish is my command.

I lean back and make a show of bringing my hand to my mouth, licking my thumb seductively and delighting in the power his lustful gaze gives me.

His own hands have gone to his jeans and he's pushing the heavy fabric down. The jeans are loose enough that as soon as they clear his narrow hips and ass they fall to his feet.

I take a step back and just look at him, allowing my eyes to roam his body from head to toe, lingering just a few seconds on his jutting erection. "So fucking hot," I mutter, then snap out of it and reach for his hand. He takes it, stepping out of the jeans, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. "Gonna make you feel so good," I say before kissing his lips one last time.

I turn us around, so that he's leaning against the island that was behind us. "Up." One word is all that's needed, and I watch mesmerized as the muscles in his arms tense when he pushes himself up to sit on the island's counter. He shivers as his warm skin meets the cool stone, but he sits back comfortably, spreading his thighs and leaning his weight back on his hands.

I allow myself to look over him, and reach down to palm my cock as I do. I need more, so I undo the button and zipper of my jeans, deciding to free myself rather than remove my jeans entirely. I might need the padding on my knees and I can always take them off when I need to.

"I really want you to suck me, but I could watch you do that all day." My eyes move from his erection to his face, and I can't help but grin. His stare is fixed on my hand as I move it along my very aroused length.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry to leave it there, but I'm a stickler for my 1000 word rule. At least you all know what to expect next time. *big grin*<em>

_Hope you enjoyed it anyway. _

_I dedicate this one to livedays, for loving my boys so very much. Thank you, sweetie._

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_I managed to get this one out on an 'official' Tuesday, which means I've had the last two out on 'somewhat' the correct days. I'll 'try hard' to get the remainder of this lemon to you on Thursday. Note the words TRY HARD!_

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	68. Chapter 68

_Sunday, 2:05 pm_

"That's it." Edward's words are accompanied by a deep sigh. "Holy shit... your mouth. Jesus!"

I can't help but smile around his dick as I suck him in deep, letting my tongue massage the underside of his shaft with every downward and upward motion. We've been at this for a while, him lying prone on the kitchen counter and me kneeling on the floor in front of him. His ass is right on the countertop's edge, and I hold his legs apart with my hands on his bent knees.

Again and again I let his cock slide deep into my throat, and again and again his body reacts, pushing against the restraint of my hands. His desperation is evident with every utterance out of his mouth. Words like "please" and "more". I continue to suck him with a constant rhythm. It's perfect to keep him climbing, but not quite enough to push him over, and I don't want him to... not just yet, anyway.

"Jazz, baby..." He pauses, punctuating the quiet moment with another attempted thrust of his hips. "More. Let me come... God. Please?"

I pull my mouth off his cock, and answer his desperate question, "Soon, love, but not yet." Letting go of his left knee, I use my now free hand to take hold of his penis. It's saliva slick and I make use of the natural lubricant to stroke him with a firm fist a few times. Now that his lower body is freer, without me restraining one side, he's more insistent as he bucks into my grasp, seeking the friction his eager body requires.

I look from his face to his groin, and notice that his balls are tight—he's getting close. I don't want him to come with only my hand on his cock, or even my mouth for that matter. I want him to explode. I want him to remember this orgasm as one of the best ever. Standing, I lean over his body, peppering his chest and shoulders with kisses as I make my way to his mouth. I kiss him hard, pushing my lips against his. He reacts perfectly, bringing his hands to cradle my head and hold me close to his body as the kiss morphs from one of desperate passion to one of love.

I could kiss him like this all day, but his hard cock pressed into my hip reminds me of the journey I've been taking him on—one I have very intention of finishing.

Breaking the kiss, I pull way enough so that I can see him. "I'm going to make you soar, Ed. You're gonna come so hard."

A muttered, "Please," is his only reply.

"I love you," I state emphatically, before smiling and moving back down his body, his hand still wound into my hair.

"Jazz..." I hear. It's a faint sound, almost a whisper. "Oh, god."

I push his cock flat against his stomach, exposing his balls, and nuzzle my nose into the soft skin, breathing deeply. "You smell so good," I mumble, my voice masked. He does, the heady aroma has my own cock standing proud from my body and aching with need, but I ignore it and concentrate on pleasing him.

When I push my tongue, flat against the tightened skin, his body reacts. When I suck first one, and then the other of his balls into my mouth, rolling them around my tongue, he cries out, "Oh, Jazz... Jesus. Fucking love that."

_Excellent!_

After a few more moments I leave his nuts and move down, spreading his cheeks as much as I can with only one hand. With my first slick swipe over his hole comes a deep moan and a gentle push of his hips. I can't resist his eagerness and even with his tight grip on my hair, continue to lick, fast and wet, over his sensitive skin.

"Jazz, Jazz, Jazz..." he chants as I push my pointed tongue into his tight ring of muscle, tongue-fucking him with vigor. "So fucking good. That's it, baby. Yes… Yes, that's it." His grasp on my hair punctuates his words, but then he says, "More." One hand let's go of my hair and I feel him cover mine on his dick, trying to get me to stroke him.

I hold my hand still under his and I can sense his frustration, but it all becomes a mute point when I pull my mouth away and gently push a spit-slicked finger into his ass.

"Ungh…" he moans. "Oh, Jazz…"

"You like that, Ed?"

"Yes. More!"

He's still slightly lubed from this morning and I easily push another finger into him—two is enough.

I kiss the insides of his thighs and fuck him with my fingers, gently at first but with increasing determination. He's a writhing mess on the counter in front of me, begging me, pleading with me to let him come. I search out his sweet spot and curl my two fingers to massage it, at the same time as I stand up and lean in to hover over his cock.

"You need to move your hand, love, if you want my mouth on your cock." He does, quick as a whip, enabling me access to immediately suck him deep into my throat.

There are no coherent words, just a series of grunts and groans. It's hot as hell to know I'm making him this way. His taste begins to grow stronger in my mouth as his orgasm builds. I make a spilt-second decision: I want to watch him.

Pulling my mouth off him, I hear him cry, "No," but I replace it with my hand.

I have two fingers in his ass and a tight fist around his cock, and I lean in close to his mouth and say, "Come for me, love."

And he does. Long hot spurts that land on his chest and mine as his ass contracts on my fingers, grabbing me tight.

* * *

><p><em>I wonder how Edward will repay Jasper for his kindness? Hmmm…. More fun to come.<em>

_Happy Easter to all!_

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	69. Chapter 69

_Sunday, 2:35 pm_

"I can't move. You realize you've rendered me totally useless." Edward's words make me smile.

I chuckle as I move over his body, running my tongue through the rapidly cooling mess on his stomach. "I think I might be persuaded to help you out with that."

"I think you've helped me out already."

I glance up to find Edward, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. His face is flushed as a result of his orgasm and he's so beautiful. Deliberately, I snake my tongue down and across his stomach, running it close to the sensitive skin of his side; he reacts perfectly, bucking against the tickle I've created.

"Stop. Stop," I hear, the words punctuated by a gurgle of laughter.

"I thought I'd rendered you immobile, sweetheart." I quickly move away from his side and swipe up some more of his cum. "Besides, I can't have you flaking on me now." I stand up, stepping back to let him see more of me, and lock my hand on my still very hard cock, stroking it determinedly. "You need to help me out here." His laughter turns very quickly into a whimper.

"Jazz…"

"Ed…" I retort, mimicking his tone. "You wouldn't leave me like this, love; surely not after what I just gave you." As I stare him straight in the face, I swipe my tongue out and along my lips, reminding him what's been in my mouth.

He growls. It's long and deep and possessive. I like it.

Pushing himself to sit, he reaches out a hand—I take it. Pulling me quickly between his splayed thighs, he wraps his arms around my body, then crashes his lips to mine. When the kiss is over he asks, "What can I do, baby? Tell me. Tell me what you want."

What do I want? I wonder if I answered, "Everything," right now that it wouldn't make him run again. But it's what I want—I want absolutely everything.

"Whatever you're willing to give me." My hands slide along his bare back, still cold from the stone countertop.

He pauses—he knows there's more to my meaning than just what sexual favor I want next, and to his credit he lets it slide. Instead asking, "Let me suck you, baby, or maybe… maybe you can fuck me again."

He wants me inside him again? Isn't he sore? "You don't need to offer that, Ed, you must be sore." I certainly rode him hard with my fingers. "Suck me, that would be wonderful. I'd love to have your mou—"

"You don't have to settle, Jazz," he interrupts. "Wouldn't you rather stick your dick in me? Ram into me… hard… fast…"

_Jesus!_

My mind goes back to all of the sex we've had since we've been together—it's really a whole lot of sex in just over a week. The man's insatiable—but then again so am I.

I'll play along. "You want me to _fuck _you, Ed? Again? Give it to you… hard… and fast. Are you still gonna be tight enough for me to enjoy it?" I feel his cock twitch against mine at my words, and reaching down I caress the cheeks of his ass lightly. He answers my teasing questions with a mumbled growl and then bites down softly on the skin of my shoulder.

He _does_ want me inside him again, and I _won't_ be refusing.

"Do you want me to take you here, love?" I thrust my hips. "Or should I fuck you on your bed… I could do it real hard if you're on your hands and knees."

One minute I'm teasing him, the next he's off the kitchen bench, grabbing my hand hard and dragging me… _dragging me… _ to his room. I'm a mesmerized mess following him, staring at his ass, and fumbling with my free hand, trying desperately to rid myself of my jeans before we get there.

"Lube… condom…" I stutter.

"You talk too much," he says, opening his bedside table drawer and throwing me lube. He opens the condom wrapper with his teeth as he stalks toward me, and the next thing I know, he has me sheathed and he's on his bed presenting his gorgeous ass in my direction. I almost come on the spot when he looks back over his shoulder, bronze hair crazy, eyes blazing, and says, "So what the fuck are you waiting for?"

This time _I_ growl.

I walk up behind him and climb up onto the bed. Squeezing some lube into my hand, I first rub some over my dick and then move my hand to his waiting hole. As I begin to tease him there, I use my other hand to caress his back, softly… lovingly, trying to show him that all the bravado in the world is only a ruse. This tenderness is how I really feel. I love him—desperately.

"Tell me," I say. "I'll do whatever you want if you tell me…"

"Please," he asks. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

I don't answer; I just line up and push into him. He's already prepared but still tight around me. It's perfect.

"Perfect!" I repeat the words aloud. "Nothing better… ever!"

"Nothing better," he tells me. "God, Jazz, Harder… harder."

As I push into him, I hold onto his hips, gripping him tight so that I can thrust hard and fast. Every sound from his mouth spurs me on, a mixture of grunts and groans and expletives.

"Fuck me. Oh, god. Jazz, Jazz…"

He matches my thrusts with pushes back of his own, and I pound into him over and over. When I feel my climax is close, I lean over him, gripping his shoulder with one hand and reaching around to grip him with the other.

"Don't need it but… ohhhh…"

His orgasm begins and along with it, mine; my whole body tightens… explodes.

"Edwaaaaard," I cry, at the same time as I hear,

"God, I love you."

* * *

><p><em>Hope you liked it.<em>

_Here we are—Easter Sunday—it's officially Easter today. Happy Easter to all!_

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	70. Chapter 70

_Sunday, 3:22 pm_

His words coil around me as my orgasm courses through my body and it has the effect of prolonging my pleasure even further. I shoot hard into the condom as euphoria passes over me at his declaration.

Collapsing onto his body, my own totally boneless and devoid of any capacity to hold myself up, we fall together onto the bed; me panting into his ear as I try to find my breath and center myself after what he has just said.

I can feel my cock softening inside him and grasp the condom, pulling out, then collapse again, this time beside him. Our faces are just inches apart, so close that each of his panting breaths sweeps over my skin, lighting every one of my senses. I can hear him, smell him, even taste him… he is utterly delicious.

Dumping my mess on the floor behind me and not caring at all where it has landed, I reach up and rub the backs of my fingers across his jaw. The action causes him to close his eyes at the contact, and I can feel it along with him, this connection between us that is so palpable.

"Ed?" I call to him softly; he looks at me, his eyes shining but heavy with his satiation.

He smiles and it's as if he knows what I'm about to say. "Hmm…"

"What did you just say?" I ask the question. I'm not nervous or unsure, because I know I heard it and I _know_ he knows he said it.

His face shines; it's in his smile, his eyes… It's better than the sun and more beautiful than the brightest moon, and he takes my hand and grips it tight in his, holding it between us. Leaning forward he brushes that beautiful smile across my lips and says softly, but there's to be no misunderstanding. "I said I love you. Actually, I think it was, 'God, I love you.'"

"You do?"

"Yeah, I really do." He kisses me again. "How could I not love you? You are amazing; the best thing that has ever happened to me. You put up with my shit." I can't help but chuckle at that. "And you're really hot in bed." He winks at me—_cheeky bastard_.

"But it's too soon, I—"

This time his laugh is loud, stopping my words short. "Says the man who has already declared his love for me."

"But I've been hot for you for months." He knows this, and I do believe it helps explain my own fast-formed emotions.

"And I've been a prick to you…" his hand squeezes mine again, "but still you've been more loyal than I've deserved." I go to speak but he stops me by continuing. "Whatever this is between us, Jazz, it's hard to define, but it's been building for me since we had dinner at Jake's Bar. I don't think there have been many moments between then and now that you haven't been on my mind—even if some of those thoughts have caused me to make bad choices—but all of those thoughts have been intense. I've fought this, but not because I don't want you, never because I don't want you. I want you so much it scares me with its intensity. I just don't want to be a burden, Jazz. I'd hate to do that to you."

"You could never be a burden to me, love, I—"

"All I can promise is that I will try. It's not going to be easy. You are going to get so frustrated with me," he shakes his head as much as he can in his position, and smiles—it's so good to see him happy… seemingly hopeful, "but I want to try. I… I do love you, Jazz. I know that. It's soon, it's been quick, but they say when you know you know, and I do, I know. What I said before was not just because of some sex induced high. I love you. God, I love you. I want you. I want to be with you. I just—"

I stop his words by crashing my mouth to his. I kiss him with everything in me. I don't want to let him go—I never want to let him go. He loves me. I know I thought it before, but this _is_ the best day ever.

After a shower to clean up, we spend the remainder of the afternoon together… kissing… talking. It's surprisingly easy. We've had other times like this, but now that we both know how important we are to each other it's somehow more special. We talk about our lives, learning the little things that until now were unknown, tidbits of our past that cement our relationship even more. For the first time he talks about his parents, and I want to meet them—I want to meet the people that brought this amazing man into the world.

I'm surprised to learn that they are basically ignorant of his sleeping issues—issues that have only been a part of his life since he left home to go to school—but it screams Edward and his innate desire to shield those that are important to him.

He also speaks of Esme and Carlisle. I begin to see them in a different light as well, especially Esme. He glows when he talks about her, she is more than his cousin—she's his best friend.

"I don't think she's very fond of me," I admit.

"Why would you say that?"

"It just hasn't been exactly easy between us so far." His face falls; I can see that he's worried by what I'm saying, and I rush to allay his concerns. "It'll be okay, I promise. I'll bend over backwards to show her how much you mean to me, Ed. She won't doubt that."

I pull him close, draping my arms around his waist.

"Everyone will know I love you, Ed."

* * *

><p><em>Hope you liked it. I did. A lot! Would love to read your thoughts.<em>

_I seem to have myself back in sync now. So I'll promise an update on Thursday. There's not many more to go now... :(_

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	71. Chapter 71

_Monday, 7:50 am_

"Morning, Jazzy. How are you, sweetie?"

I look up from the papers I'm signing to find Alice standing at the door to my office, looking a mixture of concerned and excited.

"Come in, Ali. I won't bite." I give her a wicked smile, and it has the desired effect of relaxing her immediately. I almost see her release the breath she was obviously holding in. I'm not really sure why she is so nervous—we did speak last night after all.

She looks around the room as she walks in. "Are you alone?"

Deciding to tease her, I push my seat back a bit and look down to the floor between my legs. Her gasp is quiet but distinct causing me to burst into laughter. "Alice? Can't you see my feet under there?"

Her eyes immediately fall to the space under my desk, clearly visible from where she is standing.

"Jasper Whitlock,"—oh, dear, the dreaded full name again—"you are incorrigible." _Yes, I am, _but at least my frivolous mood tells her that I am happy—ecstatically so in fact.

"Where is he?" she asks, making her way over for coffee. She picks up a cup, holding it out toward me and I nod my thanks at her silent offer.

"If you mean Edward, _he_ is meeting with Mike as we speak."

They've been in the meeting room for the last fifteen minutes, and all going well they should be out of there soon. Fortunately Mike is an easy-going guy; I have no doubt Edward will be able to get him onside again, and I'll meet with them later if need be.

Edward was rather insistent he speak with Mike privately, explaining that it was his problem to fix with _his_ colleague. He believes Mr. Pearson was none the wiser, praising Mike's 'rescue techniques' on Thursday, so I agreed. Aside from the last couple of days, Edward has always been extremely professional—apart from his tardiness. And Mike thinks this too, he said so; it was part of what concerned him so much—so now I wait.

Alice places a latte on the desk in front of me and sits down in the chair opposite. "Thanks, Ali."

"Are you too busy for a chat? I can always come back later." She is almost bouncing in her seat with her desire to 'talk' to me.

"It's fine. I have a few minutes. Anything in particular?" I tease a little more.

I always find it rather amusing to try and read Alice's tells. Some of them leave little to the imagination and now is one of those times. "Jasper," she growls.

"What?" I say, hunching my shoulders for effect. "We spoke for almost twenty minutes last night while I was driving home. What more do you want me to say?"

"_Last night _when you were _driving home_, you gave me the impression that you wouldn't see Edward again until this morning." I nod; that is all true. "Not only are you here and smiling, being… I'd probably go as far as to say, downright cheeky, but Edward is here, and has obviously been here a while if he's already in a meeting with Mike." She's onto me—now I'll just listen and find out how close to the mark she can get. "I may be taking a wild guess here, and I've been known on the very odd occasion to be wrong, but if I were a betting girl, I'd put money on this: You went back there last night. Because _you_ couldn't help yourself."

_Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner._

"You are freaky, you know that don't you."

"And right, apparently." I can't help but shake my head in amusement at my friend. If for no other reason, she makes me smile.

"Yes, you're right." I may as well admit some more to her. "I couldn't stay away. Apparently being in love will do that to you."

I wait for it…

"Jazzy," she squeals. "You're in love? You didn't say _that_ last night." Her words come out in a gush as she jumps from her chair, dancing around my desk and landing in my lap. "Of course I knew you were in love, but you hadn't admitted anything and…" She takes a breath's pause then looks me in the eye. "Does that mean Edward is in love too?"

"He sure is."

We both look to the door, and there he is. His smile is as wide as I'd imagine mine to be, and he closes the door and steps farther into the room. Alice squeezes me then jumps up and runs over to him, pulling him into an 'Alice' hug. I watch as his arms coil around her waist and back, and he holds her tight, his eyes even closing while they hold on to each other. When she pulls back she looks up at him.

"You realize this means you are now one of my best friends." He smiles down at her. "I'm a package deal, just so you know." He nods—he does. "But just let me warn you. Any more of that shit you pulled—"

"Alice!" I interject.

She doesn't even look my way, and neither does Edward. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted." _Is Edward laughing?_ "Pull that shit again and I will kick your ass, Edward Cullen. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He's very special."

"He certainly is." His eyes meet mine, locking my gaze.

"And I don't mind sharing, but…"

"Believe me Alice, I am going to try my hardest to never hurt him."

"That I can live with. Now go and hug your man." She pushes him in my direction as she moves for the door. "I'll keep an eye out, but don't stay cooped up in here too long, you two. _They'll_…" she points toward the outer office, "start to talk."

They probably will, and soon, but right now I don't really care.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	72. Chapter 72

_Monday, 5:40 pm_

"Thanks, Jasper. If that's all, I'm going to head home. It was a _big_ weekend—"

Anticipating a detailed and so-not-necessary explanation of said 'big weekend', I cut him off at the pass. "You go, Mike. I have a few more things to do here, but there's no point in you sticking around. Have a beer for me when you get home."

"Sure… okay," he stutters out. "I'll do that. See you tomorrow, boss."

I feel a bit guilty for getting rid of him that way, I'd generally always be available for a chat, but there's someone else I would far prefer to spend some time with, and like me, he's waiting patiently, 'finishing some work', while we wait to be alone.

"Bye, Mike."

Even as I look to my computer screen, I continue to watch him leave. Then wait…

"Bye, Rose… Edward." It's only been a few minutes—enough for him to pack his bag and tidy his desk.

"Bye, Mike," they chorus.

_Yes. _

One down, one to go.

_Monday, 6:10 pm_

A burst of deep laughter pulls me from my concentration. I can't help but smile at the sound; it's so good to hear him happy. I can just make out some mumbled words between him and Rose, but not enough to know what they are talking about. So long as he's happy I don't care. I return my concentration to the brief I was reading.

_Monday, 6:20 pm_

"Bye, Jazz," Rose bellows.

"Bye, Rose," I reply, not surprised that she hasn't come into the office. She's very perceptive that way.

As soon as I hear the ding of the elevator door I begin to log off. I'm not wasting a moment now.

_Monday, 6:25 pm_

Pulling a bottle of water from the small fridge in my office, I snap the lid. I'm just about to take a drink when I hear the door close and the soft pad of footsteps approaching behind me.

"Would you like one?" I ask, holding the bottle up so he can see it.

"No thanks. We won't be here long enough for me to enjoy it, besides, I'm sure I can share yours."

"What's mine is yours, love."

"Hmm…" I feel his lips as they begin to nuzzle at the back of my neck. "I like… the sound of… that."

His body is a warm cloak along my back and my body reacts, pushing back against him.

"Jesus, you feel good." Placing the bottle on the counter in front of me, I reach up and wrap my hands around his neck, holding him close. Through our thin business shirts every part of his chest and stomach touches me, and his rapidly hardening erection pushes hard against my ass. "Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?"

"If it's even close to how much I want you then we're in trouble."

"Trouble?"

"Yeah, 'cause I'm about..." his mouth moves to my ear and he bites gently on my lobe, "this close to fucking you right here in your office, baby." His words are punctuated by a swift thrust of his hips.

I growl. I can't help it.

If it wasn't for a very long discussion we've already had about this exact thing, and how it's definitely best we avoid fucking in my office for the time being, I'm sure he'd have me bent over my desk already.

Turning in his arms and then crushing my lips to his, I show him that he affects me in exactly the same way too, but then—using every ounce of willpower I possess—push him away.

"Mr. Cullen," I pant out, once I've calmed my breathing enough to talk. "I think it's time I went home for the night."

As I run my hands through my hair, doing my best attempt at making myself look presentable again, and then straighten my shirt and tie, I watch him do the same.

Our eyes don't leave the other's.

Even as I move to my desk to pick up my things I keep watching him, thrilled to see the effort he puts in to calm himself as well. Thrilled that he's that way because of me.

He leaves my office.

"Goodnight, Jasper."

I smirk at his attempt to perform for the cameras as he walks into the main office.

When I can't see him anymore, I call out, "Meet you at my car in five minutes, sexy," and then chuckle silently, wondering if he was able to cover his reaction to that one.

With my bag in hand and my coat thrown over my arm. I turn off the lights and walk to the elevator.

"Edward." I nod as I walk past, calling the elevator by pushing the button. I'm just about to step into it when I hear,

"You're in trouble… _sexy._"

I walk in and turn, looking him straight in the eye, and reply, "Oh, I can't wait." The door closes.

_Monday, 6:45 pm_

"I'm really glad Paul didn't drive you today, Jazz."

"Oh," I respond. "Apart from the fact that he would've had all sorts of questions considering I _wasn't _at my house for him to pick me up at, _plus_ I had a passenger." I raise my brow as I take a quick moment to look at him. "Why are you glad, Ed?"

He reaches over and gently runs his hand up my leg, grazing it teasingly over my cock. "Because you look all kinds of fuckhot driving this car, Jazz." _Damn!_ "Even if I may have been able to get on my knees in the limo, and you know how much I love having this," he squeezes for effect, "in my mouth. Watching you drive is nearly as good."

_Edward!_

"There'll be no fucking car to drive if you keep that shit up." My words are tense. He is such a tease.

"I'll stop then." He pulls his hand away. "But hurry up and get me home."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_I think Ed and Jazz are seriously underestimating the security in that office building. I'm thinking a humorous outtake from the company Security Guy who maybe even calls Paul the chauffeur in to check out his 'footage'. What do you all think?_

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	73. Chapter 73

_Monday, 7:05 pm_

Clothing starts to come off while we're still in the car. I vaguely notice when my tie gets pulled off and thrown, landing over the steering wheel.

We're both too tall to be doing this, but if there are any small mercies to be had, I'm so glad for having kept the car original and not installing a modern center console. Instead the space between the seats is open; if he doesn't fall into the open space between the seats in his efforts to hover over me, we're good. Like always, he has me turned on beyond belief. One day I fully intend to have him in this car—I'm not sure how, but it will happen. For now I'll be content with what this is: a super-hot make-out session.

Grunts and groans bounce around the interior. Mine… his… _ours. _He pushes the restrictive fabric of my shirt out of the way and attacks my chest, biting at the skin of my pecs. His desperation mirrors mine; his movements are determined.

One hand holds me back against the seat as he bends to lave over my tightened abdominals. I can feel my muscles constricting as he moves over my skin. Every part of me reacts to him. I am putty in his hands.

As I try to recline, the feat difficult in itself with my long legs wedged under the steering wheel and Ed's head in the space between it and my body, he reaches down and I feel the seat fall back as he pulls the seat's recline lever.

"Perfect," he mutters, and then his lips are back on my skin and his hand is at the fastener of my trousers.

Nimble fingers expose my cock—hard… _always_ hard and aching for him. And then he grasps me in his fist. The first stroke along my heated flesh prompts a deep moan to fall from my lips, causing him to lift his head. Our eyes fix and he strokes me again, his fingers tight… firm… just perfect. And still our eyes are locked. His gaze doesn't waver, he just watches me as his hand works my shaft. The emotions resonating between us are intense. His face is only inches from mine. It's as if there's a thread locking us in place. Nothing moves apart from our rapidly rising chests and his hand, although I can feel my heart thundering below my ribs as he works me into a lather.

When, on an upward stroke, he brushes his thumb across my glans, pausing for just a millisecond to apply pressure to my slit, my body reacts—it's an involuntary movement that I have no control over. My head tilts back and pushes into the seat and my eyes close; it breaks that visual connection we have, and as amazing as his hand on my cock feels, that was somehow even better. I miss it. I crave it again, but before I have a chance to right myself and find him again, I feel his lips press softly against my chest. They stay there, soft against my skin, as his hand moves in its torturous rhythm.

It is maybe the sweetest thing I have ever experienced in my life. For all the passion we have for each other, I will always be thankful for this, this sweet hold we seem to have over each other.

He continues to stroke me, bringing me closer and closer to completion, but somehow keeping me hovering just on the precipice. When I find the composure to open my eyes again and look to him, I again find those soulful green eyes watching me… possessing me.

He begins to speak. "You're amazing. I love to watch you like this, so lost in what's happening, letting every emotion and sensation own you." He speaks the words to the beat of his hand pumping along my shaft. "I truly don't care about anything else but giving you this."

His words remind me that I'm the only one getting off here at the moment and I attempt to move, wanting to share this superlative feeling.

"No, baby." His voice is low… hypnotic. "Let me give you this." His eyes hold mine again—he has me charmed. "Just enjoy…"

His rhythm picks up, accompanied by more flicks of his thumb. It's torture, in the best of possible ways. I feel my eyes beginning to flicker closed; the sensations are just too intense to keep them open.

"Stay with me, baby. Watch me while you come." I start and bring my focus back to him. "You're so gorgeous when you come, Jazz, and you're mine." _Oh, Jesus. _I feel my balls tighten; the spring that has been coiling tighter and tighter, taking me to this realm of pleasure that only Edward can give me, begins to break. "It's all for me, baby." His hands pumps: stroke… stroke… "I love you, Jazz. Come for me, baby."

That's all I need.

As I begin to shoot, harder than I think I ever have before, his lips crash against mine. He kisses me hard through my orgasm. All I can feel is sensation; it runs through every cell of my body, releasing in thick warm spurts over my tensed stomach. My legs straighten and my back arches, and for the first time I find the ability to bring my hand up, pushing my fingers into his soft hair, and I hold him, unwilling in this moment—or ever—to let him go.

As my body relaxes, his hand now only a soft caress over my sensitive penis, but still lightly moving as he brings me down from my high, our kiss slows. He doesn't pull away and I feel the pressure of his forehead against mine. His breathing is labored—_strange_.

"I love you," I murmur against his cheek.

"Just as well."

"Why?"

"My trousers need to go to your dry cleaner, baby."

I laugh out loud and hold him tight.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_I didn't actually intend to write this chapter, but a few comments gave me a reason to give the boys a taste of citrus this chapter, so I whipped it up and added it in._

_After a very positive response to the possibility of a Security Guy/Paul outtake, I have decided to write it and I promise to deliver. It will be after the conclusion of the story though, as will be a few outtakes I have planned for the boys—some REAL Mustang sexin' just one of them._

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone. But the wonderful edwardsisobel did read over quite a bit of this and offer her invaluable opinion. Thanks, bb._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._

_._

_**Before you go!**_

_Some of you may be aware of the Drabble Wars that have been taking place over the last few months and will continue through the rest of this year._

_I put my hand up (and I'm still shaking my head, cause I am SOOOO time poor right now) and will be a part of the April Drabble War beginning this coming weekend._

_I would love your support, although I do warn you that the story I am contributing is NOT Edward/Jasper (shock horror). Some of you may feel I have disappeared to the dark side, but I am an avid reader of as much het fic in the fandom as slash. I even have two het fics already posted on my profile. So I decided to write a sweet little Edward/Bella tale. _

_Edward is delicious, as always, and you may even fall in love with Bella again. My Edward certainly becomes very __enamoured__ of her._

_I hope to see you there._

_Cheers, Sam._

_Here's the link to the first chapter of 'Just a Minute Longer': fanfiction . net/s/8032959/1/_


	74. Chapter 74

_Thursday, 8:40 pm_

I'm not sure where the week has disappeared to. Tomorrow is Friday—my last day of 'manning house', so to speak.

The last few days have gone better than expected. It's been busy, and a little bit hectic. I've certainly been pulled every which way, but that's only been with work. With Ed, everything has been perfect.

Whether we should have or not, we've spent every night together, alternating between our houses and our animals. The animals have certainly proved the one big difficulty for us outside of work—well, work isn't a difficulty, yet. Next week may prove to be another story. We've discussed possibly introducing Jacob to Sebs at some point soon, but I know that will be less than productive. The fact is that Sebs is a cat. I doubt he'll appreciate such an introduction. If it comes to us changing our living arrangements, and in reality I know we are far too new to really be considering that—even though I do, all the time—then we'll deal with it. Sebs might be pissed with me for ignoring him so much lately, but I think he'd rather more time 'alone' than a stressful meeting with a dog. The irony is that I think Jacob would love it.

Which brings us to our dinner companions; I watch Emmett as he laughs along with a joke he just made—one at our expense of course, but it's all been in good fun. He actually seems very happy for us. He's a good guy, and I honestly didn't expect anything different from him, but Rose had been reluctant to 'fill him in,' so I suppose I did wonder why.

I think back to the moment he realized Edward was holding my hand on the table. He and Rose had just arrived. We'd heard his deep voice before we'd seen him, and I attempted to pull my hand from Ed's, but he wouldn't allow it. I knew Emmett would learn about us tonight, so my caution was not to stop that happening; I was rather anxious for him to know in truth. What concerned me was him knowing before Ed was ready to tell him—obviously Ed was ready.

"_There they ar—" I watch as he looks at our hands, then at Rose, then at me and Ed again, his gaze drifting over me then stopping with his friend. _

_If the moment wasn't so serious I may have laughed, but Emmett is obviously surprised—really surprised._

_Turning back to Rose he asks, "Did you know about this?"_

_Her skin pinks and she nods, and then adds, "Yes, baby."_

_I watch what could only be termed a look of hurt cross his features. "And you didn't think to tell me, Rosie."_

_Rose leans in and speaks to him quietly, finishing her words with a kiss on his cheek. I can't hear it all, but I can make out 'not my place.'_

_His head is still shaking as they walk closer, sitting down across from us._

_Emmett doesn't say anything for long moments, his eyes flicking between both our faces and our still-joined hands. "This looks serious," he says to both of us._

_Edward nods, and in a very defiant move replies, "It's very serious, Em. I love him."_

_I've never loved him more._

_._

_**Emmett**_

I watch them, amazed by the looks on both their faces, and softly shake my head, earning me a soft squeeze on the knee from Rosie. I look to her and raise both my eyebrows, clearly making my amazement at this situation known. Never in a million years would I have imagined this scenario.

When Rose informed me of who our dinner companions would be for tonight, I laughed—hard. _Edward and Jasper?_ I thought. _This will be interesting, as long as they don't tear each other to pieces. _Rose had hinted a few times that they'd make a 'cute' couple. I'd always laughed and said, 'Yeah, if Hell freezes over."

Apparently, it has.

Ed's been my friend for years. We met at school and became fast friends. Even when he began to have issues with his sleeping, and I on more than one occasion had to tell him to pull his head in, our friendship continued to grow. I've always been one of the few people willing to put up with his bullshit when he begins to withdraw into himself; only because I don't put up with it. I'd like to think he's always appreciated me for that, and that's why we've remained friends.

I'm thankful for Ed for many reasons, not the least being that he's the reason I met Rose.

I watch him now, his eyes shining and his posture soft as he leans into the man beside him, and I can honestly say I have never seen him like this. Never.

Then there's Jasper? He's one of the most likeable guys I've ever met. It's always amazed me to watch the conflict between him and Ed. Not because Ed is easy to get along with—I know he can be a prick—but Jasper is just so... nice. I always put it down to Jasper having reached his 'limits'. I can only imagine how difficult having Ed working under him would be. My thoughts cause me to chuckle. It seems Ed's doing a lot more than just 'working under' Jasper now. I shudder. I've never had an issue with Ed, or Jazz, being gay, but I really don't want to think about the 'ins and outs' of that, thank you very much.

Reaching up, I drape my arm over Rosie's shoulder then lean in and kiss her cheek, resolutely confirming my heterosexuality after having _those_ thoughts. When I get past my small moment of 'ick', my thoughts become positive again and I think, _best of luck guys_. If they can find any semblance of what I have with Rose, they'll be very lucky, and I truly wish them that.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._

_._

_I would just like to remind you again of my new Edward/Bella drabble, __**Just a Minute Longer**__. Here is the link: fanfiction dot net/s/8032959_


	75. Chapter 75

_Friday, 3:10 am_

"Ed?"

I wake up, realizing he's tossing and turning next to me.

"It's okay, Jazz. Go back to sleep," he whispers. "Love you."

His words calm me, and I lie there in a half-asleep, half-awake daze, comforted by the arms draped around my waist and the warm body nestled against my back.

My eyes weigh closed again, but then it occurs to me he's awake. Shit!

"Ed? Can't you sleep?" He pulls me tighter into him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Baby, it's okay. This is what I'm used to." His words are so quiet. "Lying here and holding you makes it all bearable."

I try and turn in his arms but he won't let me. "Sleep, Jazz. You have an important day today. I'll be okay. I'm already feeling sleepy."

"Love you," I tell him.

"I know. 'Night."

_Friday, 6:00 am_

The shrill blast of the alarm wakes me immediately; I reach over and shut it off. Behind me the breeze from Edward's soft snores flutters against my shoulder.

He hasn't woken up. How he can sleep through that noise I have no idea. It's seriously the loudest alarm I've ever heard. I wonder if I hadn't turned it off if he'd still be snoring away. I doubt I'll ever be able to test the theory either; the damn thing sounds like a burglar alarm.

Rolling over and facing him, I take a few moments to watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful. So very beautiful. I'm reluctant to wake him but know I must. This is the responsibility I've taken on—one he didn't want to burden me with—one that I insisted I wanted to do. He needs me to do this for him. Waking him up will be the easy bit; I only wish I knew a sure way to get him to go to sleep.

It's not the first time he's struggled to sleep while I've been in his bed. I know I'm not a 'sure-fire' solution. That is painfully obvious this morning. After the drinks and sex we had last night, I would've been sure he'd sleep—he didn't.

My mind drifts back to getting home last night after our dinner with Rose and Emmett. Jesus. Will I ever get enough of this man—stop wanting him? I hope not.

I can still feel the evidence of our passion on my body—a sweet, sweet pain that lingers so deliciously. I smile as I remember how he took me hard, pushed up against the wall in his entry. We were barely able to make getting through the front door.

As I remember all of the glorious details, my cock reminds me it's there, and that it would be more than happy to do it all again.

Maybe I can coax Ed out of his slumber with an attractive incentive.

Running a finger lightly across his cheek and then across his open lips, I say his name softly in accompaniment to my movements. "Ed. Wake up, love." I move close enough to kiss him, drawing in his breath as he exhales, before brushing my lips over his.

"Ed. Edward."

Nothing.

_Shit!_

"Edward," I repeat louder. "Sweetheart, wake up."

"Mmmm…" he groans. At least that's something.

"Edward," I say, louder. "It's after six. You need to wake up." I'm not stressing yet; it's only been a few minutes since the alarm went off.

"Wanna sleep… Tired…"

"I know you are, love, but you can sleep later. You need to get up. We have work."

"So tired, Jazz." He opens one unfocused eye and looks at me; I almost laugh.

"Maybe you need some encouragement." Reaching down I drag my fingers lightly over his cock. The reaction is instant, and I feel him hardening as I do it again… and then again.

"Unggg…" he groans and opens the other eye. "Feels good, Jazz. Oh, god…"

"Are you awake now?"

"I'm trying, Jazz… Fuck…"

"I don't think we have time for that, love," I chuckle, "but I'm sure I can make it worth your while to wake up for me."

"I'm awake." His eyes open; the look on his face is almost comical with his eyes too wide.

"Good. Now here's your reward."

I wiggle my hips close to his, knowing I'm in just the right position when I feel his erection touch mine, then I reach down and grasp them both in my hand.

"Are you ready, love?"

"Fuck yes."

He follows his words by attaching his lips to mine, moaning into my mouth as I pump us slowly, but firmly, bringing us to completion quickly.

As we lay there, panting and allowing our breathing to slow, I say, "Do you mind if I wake you up like that every morning?"

He smiles; it's a wide-awake smile too. "Be my guest."

_Friday, 5:00 pm_

We're just finishing our meeting—Mike, Tyler, Rose, Alice, Edward and me—wrapping everything up in readiness for Monday.

It's time.

Edward reaches under the table, placing his hand on my knee, squeezing it gently.

"Mike. Tyler. I'd like to tell you something before you hear it elsewhere." They look at me. "Edward and I are seeing each other. I can assure you—"

Tyler interrupts. "You're together?" He looks from me to Edward.

Ed answers, "Yeah. We are."

"Wow." Tyler obviously had no clue. "Will this cause problems?" At least he's honest.

I can't resist smiling. "I certainly hope not, but we'll sit down with Carlisle and Esme on Monday and see what they want us to do. If Edward has to transfer to a different team then we'll deal with it."

Mike hasn't said a word.

"You have my support, guys," Rose adds. Alice stays quiet.

"Mine too," Tyler says, nodding. I think he's still processing everything.

Tyler stands and walks to the door. Mike follows him, and just as he gets there turns and says, "I did wonder when you two would finally get it on."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Sorry about the missed update on Sunday. Those of you who have me on author alert would realise why. I have been a crazy woman pumping out chapters for my weekend drabble, __**Just a Minute Longer**__. Yes, the one that isn't quite finished yet. There'll be a few more alerts to come, but not too many. Thanks in advance for your patience. _

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	76. Chapter 76

_Friday, 6:05 pm_

"You sure the place is empty?" Edward asks. His words are serious, but the sound of desire evident in his voice contradicts them—he almost purrs out the question.

"Mmm hmm. Friday night… They're all gone," I hum against his neck as I nibble the soft skin, moving farther down his shoulder so that when I suck him hard, raising blood to the surface, no one will be any the wiser.

My hands work in tandem, one on his crotch palming his erection, and one on the buttons of his shirt, working them open so that my nose can push away any fabric that's in my way.

"Fuck, you taste good," I growl, latching my lips onto his flesh, drawing hard, and grasping his cock even harder in my hand as I do it.

"Jazz… Jesus!"

I smile against his skin as he bucks his hips, and his cock, forward.

"Want you, Ed." I move off his shoulder, taking a quick moment to admire my handy work and run my fingertip gently over the bruised skin, taking great pleasure in the angry red mark.

I stand up again, bringing my eyes level with his. He's leaning back against my desk, legs splayed open, and I'm standing between them so very close to him. "Want to fuck you in my office while I'm still _the_ _boss_, Ed, I really do… so bad…"

His eyes hold my stare; the green has almost disappeared and the black desire that has replaced it silently screams at me, showing me how much he wants this as well. Unable to contain myself, I crash my lips to his and push my tongue roughly into his mouth. Teeth clash and lips get bitten—I actually taste blood—but I don't care; all it does is make everything hotter. He pushes a hand into my hair, gripping it in a tight fist, holding me to him as we devour each other with our mouths. When I squeeze him hard again through his slacks, the action causing him to gasp, I take that as my cue to pull back.

"You like the idea of _the_ _boss_ fucking you, don't you, Ed?" I keep rolling my palm over his cock. My face is so close to his, our breaths mixing together. "Fucking you over my desk—_the_ _boss'_ desk. Fucking you so hard that you'll see stars."

"God, yes."

"This is our last opportunity, gorgeous. As soon as we walk out the door tonight it's all over. I _need_ to have you."

"I'm yours."

He turns and looks at the things on my desk, then deciding there is nothing there that can be damaged, sweeps everything onto the floor.

"Fucking hell," I declare. "I've always wanted to do that… and watching you do it. God, that's even better."

Now that the desk is clear I take the initiative, pushing him back to lie on the wooden surface, drinking in what I can see: his tie is still on but pulled loose; his shirt is skewed with a few buttons open and I can just see that sexy bruise peeking out from beneath the fabric; his hair's messed up but totally magnificent; and his cock… oh, god… his cock—perfectly outlined under the navy blue fabric of his slacks, long and so damned hard and straining against the fabric.

I watch as he brings one hand to his length, sliding his palm along it. "Is this what you want?" My eyes leave his groin for his face. I think I lick my lips. I can see his other hand move in my peripheral vision and know he's undoing his pants but I don't look directly there—his face has me mesmerized. Utterly hypnotized actually, that is until he groans, and my eyes fly to his groin again. He's pumping his cock in slow steady pulls. "Don't make me wait, baby…" _Oh, Jesus._ "Need _the_ _boss_ to fuck me, Jazz. Can you give me that?"

I'm not sure when it happens, but in a frenzy his slacks and briefs, shoes and socks are removed… they're gone; mine are down around my ankles. I'm holding my cock in one hand and his ankle near my shoulder in the other, and I'm lined up and ready to push into his slick hole.

I look down at where we're about to be joined, and then up and into his face. His lips are red and swollen and he's panting hard. He just watches me for mere seconds then says, his voice husky and full of need, "Fuck me."

_I do._

I pound into his ass. Stroke after glorious stroke. "So tight. Always so tight... so fucking good." I tell him all of this as I fuck him hard. "Never been like this before... with anybody else. Nobody else. Jesus, Ed."

He counters my rant with declarations of his own. "Want you all the time... Never enough, Jasper. Oh, god... So good."

I let go of his leg and lean down over his body. I need to feel his lips on mine—I hunger for them. The tempo slows while we kiss and his legs wrap around my waist, holding me tight into him, but tonight, this time, we need more... We both need more.

"Love you, but I need to you to fuck me, baby," he tells me.

One last kiss and I stand up again. We're still joined; it's perfect. Bracing myself, taking both his ankles in my hands, I begin to thrust—hard—angling my body to make it the best it can be for him.

Every thrust swipes his gland. His noises are desperate keenings—pure need. His hands are fisted in his hair and he hasn't touched himself again, but I know he's close—so am I.

Our eyes lock just as he starts to pulse around me. I watch him shoot thick ribbons of cum as my own orgasm overwhelms me.

"I fucking love you, Edward Cullen."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_The boys will talk about the team's reaction next time, and what they anticipate on Monday with Esme and Carlisle's return. Today they were just too damned needy to get some office loving; besides, they needed to give the security guy something more to think about. Didn't they?_

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	77. Chapter 77

_Friday, 6:55 pm_

"I am utterly exhausted," he says, his words punctuated by obvious breathy pauses. His eyes are heavy as he looks up at me.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah. Good. It means I've done my job."

Bending down I brush a kiss across his lips and then run my fingers through his still damp hair. We're on the sofa now—me sitting at one end with Edward lying across it, his head in my lap, his feet crossed and resting on its arm. The lights were dimmed earlier and now cast the perfect glow over us, highlighting our still semi-dressed states—it's incredibly sexy.

"I still can't believe you allowed this to happen. You've been adamant all week that there would be no sex in this office. You certainly changed your tune." He grins up at me, obviously humored by my change in attitude, but more than pleased that I gave in.

"After Newton's comment I thought, 'Why the hell not.' It's not as if anyone seems to be bothered by the thought of us. Not yet anyway." My thoughts rush to the return of Carlisle and Esme on Monday. How they take it will be the all-important test.

"It'll be fine," he soothes. We've had this discussion more than a few times this week and he knows my concerns, even though he doesn't share them. I don't want to get into it now, so I change the subject.

"And it's not like you put _any_ pressure on me at all, Edward. No, not once. Oh, hang on. Is wiggling your ass and taunting me _every_ day, pressure? Hmm?"

"Sorry, baby. Do you forgive me?" he asks cheekily.

I chuckle. "It depends."

"On what?"

"If you'll allow me to do it again sometime… considering my _demotion_ and all."

This time his eyes get serious. "I don't care what you do, Jazz. You could be flipping burgers everyday and I'd still be yours… because I love you." He pulls my head down to his and we kiss—it's a kiss that shows me in every way how sincere his words are. When the kiss is over we're quiet for a few moments, eyes locked, hands caressing. He surprises me when he moves quickly, getting to his feet and moving to straddle my thighs. "Besides, you can pound me into the wall, or in this case, desk, whenever you want."

Again I laugh. How can I not? It's what's so good about us—that perfect mix of fun and seriousness that keeps my heart pounding in my chest for him.

"God, I love you. Have I told you that lately?" I push my hands under the fabric of his shirt, rubbing the warm skin of his shoulders, feeling the hot, raised mark I made earlier and concentrating on it with my thumb as I wait for his answer.

"I think it was a good five minutes ago. You'd better pick up your game, buddy." His green eyes burn as he looks at me. "I might begin to think you're losing interest."

"Never," I growl, and pull him close as I kiss him again, plundering his mouth with mine. This time there is need, desire, raw passion. I feel him begin to grow harder against my belly, his erection pushing firmly against my taut skin. I'm hardening too, and I begin to rut against him, my body subconsciously searching for its utopia.

The quiet room around us becomes filled with lustful moans and declarations of need. I could so easily push in to him again but I crave him inside me. I want to feel him stretch me… fill me… own my body.

"Want you," I murmur against his ear. "Need you, Ed, need you so much."

When he pulls back to look into my eyes his face has a wicked smirk across it. "You want me to fuck the boss. Is that what you're asking, Jazz?"

"Yes," I groan as he purposely grinds his ass over my cock. I truly am desperate for him.

"Here, baby? On the sofa?" He thrusts again; my cock slides along the crease of his ass. All I can do is nod. "We'll have to swap around." I nod again.

We're moving to change positions, and I rush back to my desk to grab the lube and another condom, pushing off my slacks as I go. I turn to return to him and pause, holding up my hand to quiet him, as my erection rapidly deflates. "Did you hear something, love?"

He looks at me oddly. "No. I didn't hear a thing. There's no one out there. Now get your ass back here. I'm waiting." He strokes his cock as he sits there with his legs spread, looking fucking amazing, and even though I listen for a few moments longer I can't take my eyes off him and I forget about whatever I think I heard almost straight away.

Quickly straddling his legs puts me in the perfect position for him to begin prepping me, and in no time at all I'm begging for him to remove his talented fingers from my ass and replace them with his even more capable dick.

I'm holding his face and kissing him soundly as he holds himself at my entrance and I lower onto him. I don't take it easy, or even slowly for that matter. I just impale myself until he's balls deep in me.

"Fucking hell…" I take a moment as I adjust to him. "Good god you feel perfect." My forehead's against his, my hands are still carded through his hair.

"Perfect," Edward agrees.

I'm just lifting and lowering myself again when I hear—without a doubt—a woman's voice. Edward goes rigid below me as we both recognize the mellow tone immediately—Esme!

My door is locked; if we don't make a sound we should be okay.

"The cleaners must have left Jasper's light on, dear. Let me turn it off and then we can go."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading.<em>

_Sorry for being a bit wicked. Well I'm not really… _

_No beta today. Any errors are mine alone._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	78. Chapter 78

_Friday, 7:20 pm_

At first I can't move. I'm paralyzed with fear, but that paralyzing fear is quickly usurped by sheer terror and I begin to panic. Irrational thoughts flood my mind. Holy shit! That woman cannot find me like this. I'm half naked. I have Ed's dick in my ass. Oh, God, I have her favorite cousin's dick in my ass, and we're in my office in _her_ fucking building. And, I'm the fucking boss—I'm the boss because her husband had faith that I could be responsible. Jesus Christ! What the hell is she going to think?

Edward in total contrast is deadly calm. I don't notice this until I begin to lift off him and his hands grip my arms firmly and keep me where I am. He looks at me and shakes his head, then mouths, "Stay."

"We can't stay; we need to get dressed," I whisper frantically.

"You're not going anywhere." He holds my stare, surprising the hell out of me when he thrusts. All I can do is suck in a deep breath as the sensations shoot through my body. "The door is locked. Be quiet and she'll go away—it will be okay." He thrusts again.

"You are evil," I declare almost silently. He grins then nods his head—and thrusts again.

I groan louder than I should have.

There's a moment's absolute silence while Edward and I just watch each other and no sounds come from the other side of the door. That is until,

"Hello, is there someone in there?" I hear the door handle rattle as Esme tries to open it. "Carlisle, I think there's someone in there. Jasper? Is that you?"

Edward is shaking his head in some manic silent gesture that is supposed to keep me quiet, but I can't. I need to fess up and admit I'm in my office. If I just say I'm here and that I'm busy she might go away. A silent "No" leaves Edward's mouth as I begin to speak.

"Yes, Esme it's me. I'm busy. Can't come to the door right now. Sorry. Working late. Finishing off a few things for Monday."

Edward looks at me like I've lost my sanity, then mouths, "What the fuck?"

"Oh. Jasper." There's a pause. "Umm. You're busy. Okay." Her words are as ridiculously stuttered as mine. "Could Carlisle and I have a word with you before we go?"

Edward's still shaking his head; the action even more desperate than before. Plus, his dick is still in my ass. I shrug my shoulders, silently asking him what the fuck he expects me to do.

"Sorry, Esme. I'm… a bit… busy. Can we speak on Monday… or I can call… call you over the weekend?"

I hear some muttering that I assume is coming from Carlisle. He sounds farther away, possibly close to the elevator. Esme answers him, but the words are muffled to my ears and I can only make out a few indistinct phrases. "No, I will not… someone in there… Carlisle!"

At the sound of his 'other' cousin's chastisement, Edward snickers. As soon as the sound leaves his lips he blushes a deep red and closes his eyes, but he doesn't let me lift off his body. In fact he's as hard as he's ever been.

"Edward?" I'm not sure if Esme's question is directed at me, Carlisle, or thin air, but she has picked up on the one thing she should _never_ have picked up on. "Jasper?" Fuck, this woman is tenacious.

"Esme, I think we should go home." This time Carlisle's voice is clear, and moving closer.

"No."

"Now, Esme."

"No!"

_Oh, lord, help me please._

Again I try to move. If I'm going to face the music at least I'm going to face it with my pants on. Edward holds me still. "No." He then turns his head toward the door and surprises the hell out of me by saying, "Esme. I love you, but you need to listen to Carlisle and go home. Now!"

"Edward… I… Are you okay?"

"I am very okay, Es. I'll be even better when you're not standing outside that door anymore."

"But I—"

"But nothing, Es. Go home." He leans in and brushes a gentle kiss over my lips. "Take her home, Car."

"Yes. We're leaving." I notice steps moving away from the door—Esme is strangely silent. "Bye, guys. See you Monday, bright and early." Carlisle laughs—he fucking laughs.

It's less than a minute before we hear the elevator close and they are gone. And I know they won't be back. We're alone again. My heart is pounding and adrenaline is coursing through my veins.

And it's perfect.

Edward's perfect.

Carlisle and Esme know—that is one hurdle down. How they deal with it is not something we can control right now, and at least they'll have some time to process it before we see them on Monday. Besides, Carlisle sounded very relaxed, overly so if I think about it. And truly, thinking about either of them at the moment is not my priority.

Edward is watching me. His hands are running over the skin of my back, soothing me with hypnotizing circles of warmth. And then he thrusts. It's just a gentle motion but it's enough to totally bring me back to the moment.

This is what I'm here for; this is what I want.

I don't care about Esme. She could fire my ass and I wouldn't care as long as I had Edward. He's all that matters.

Cradling his face in my hands, I again lean forward and kiss him. It's soft but assured and shows him without words everything he means to me.

When we break the kiss he grins. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"God, yes. Give it to me, baby."

He hums a few bars of The Offspring, matching the iconic "Aha, aha"s with a cheeky smile and perfectly timed heaven.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. <em>

_Edward is really stepping up now. I'm so proud of him. Did you recognise the song at the end? The Offspring – Pretty Fly for a White Guy. I've totally got it stuck in my head now… 'Give it to me, baby, aha aha, Give it to me…'_

_Thanks so very much to everyone for your support with this story. I know I am "again" fail with review replies, but I know you would all prefer these chapters to be coming out. All I can say is thank you to those of you who continue to brighten my day with every review and amazing comment you make about the boys. We are so close to the end now. I hope you enjoy the last few chapters._

_No beta today, any errors are mine alone, but edwardsisobel did pre-read. Hugs, bb._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	79. Chapter 79

_Saturday, 7:20 am_

Edward's been on the phone, talking with Esme, for ten minutes. Ten grueling minutes, and all I've been able do is listen to his responses to her questions and hope for the best.

I tried to leave and give them some privacy, but Edward wouldn't allow it, shaking his head and holding my hand firmly when I went to move.

"No, Es." He raises his eyes for the twentieth time and shakes his head. "What do you want me to say?"

They're going over and over the same things, and he's getting incredibly frustrated. Reaching over, I take his hand in mine, squeezing it gently before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"_Esme_." His tone is different, and I notice for the first time that there's silence at the other end of the line. And then the diatribe continues; I admire Edward's capacity to keep it together. "It's not your place to say that… It's none of your fucking business… No, I don't care… Esme, stop!" He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. "Esme, this is how it is and you need to accept it. We're together… Yes!" Another silent pause as he listens to her, but this time he looks to me, a sad look in his eyes. "Well I wish you _would_ listen to Carlisle, at least he's speaking sense."

Neither says anything for a few moments and then her words are clear. "_Do you love him, Edward?_" There are a few more muttered phrases that I can't make out, and I wonder why she asked that question so loudly… so clearly? Did she want me to hear? Did she hope he'd say no?

"Yes, Es, I'm in love. Actually, I'm crazy in love with Jasper." He says all of that as he looks intently into my eyes, ending his declaration with a smile that is only for me; it lights up his whole face, makes his eyes shine. "And, Es, he loves me too." He's not responding to whatever she may have said—if anything her words would have the opposite effect—it's because of what _he_ just said, what he just told her, and it makes me feel alive, and surer than ever that we have our whole future to prove to everyone else what we already know. We're in love, and quite frankly everyone else can go to hell; they don't matter—nothing else matters.

I almost wish he would just end the call; allow us to sink back into our bubble. But I know he won't. Esme is too important to him, and for that reason alone I can understand his need to make her understand us. As he talks he watches me, holding my attention with the sheer intent of his expression and every bit of the determination that is evident in his voice. When she begins to say something else he cuts her off. "No, don't say it. Please don't say that." _What the hell has she said to him now?_

"Esme, when you first met Carlisle, how long did it take for you to know?" I hate not knowing what she's saying. "To know he was it—the one for you—of course." I hate the monotony of her reply that comes through like static to my ears. "So why do you think it would be any different for me?" I hate the look on his face as he listens to what she's saying. "But that's the thing, Es, I didn't _know _Jasper before. I really only met him a couple weeks ago." I hate that he feels he has to justify us. "It doesn't matter, Es. None of it matters anymore. All that matters is now."

And when it all boils down to it that's the thing. None of it matters anymore. Not the tension, not the arguments, not Edward doing a runner. It doesn't matter that we work at the same place. It doesn't matter that I'm his superior. It doesn't even matter if Esme hates me from here until my end of days. As long as Edward loves me, I'll be the happiest guy in the world.

"I love you," I mouth silently and squeeze his hand.

"Es. I need to go… Yeah… I need you to be happy for me. Please… I know. Love you too."

The call's over. He places his cell on the coffee table and climbs into my lap, cradling my face in his palms.

"I love you too, baby." His lips are so soft as they push against mine with a reverence that makes me feel precious and absolutely loved. I push my hands up under his shirt, caressing his soft skin, and holding him tight into my body. We fit perfectly, like two halves of a matching pair. Nothing could be better than this—ever.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Jazz. I really am. I—"

"You don't have to explain to me, Ed," I stop him. "There's nothing to apologize for." I knew she'd be a difficult nut to crack, but I'm not going to go all 'I told you so' on him. "Thank you for defending me." I'm not sure what it is exactly that he was defending, but I can hazard a reasonable guess.

"Just being honest, baby."

Deciding to try and break the tension, I give him a wink and say, "And that's why I find you so totally fuckable."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm _just_ a sex object."

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

We both laugh. It's great.

"I have an idea," Edward says. "How do you feel about a nice long ride—on the bikes…" he eyeballs me, so I decide against the smart comment I was considering. "We could ride up the Olympic Peninsula, maybe visit my folks…"

He's hesitant to ask I can tell, but also excited. And really, two days away with him sounds awesome. Plus, I've got to meet his folks one day…

"Sure. Let's do it."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. <em>

_No beta today, any errors are mine alone, but edwardsisobel again managed to squeeze in some pre-reading for me. Thanks, bb._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	80. Chapter 80

_Saturday, 11:20 am_

"What can I get for you boys?" The waitress assigned to our table asks, glancing between both of us and smiling widely as she places steaming cups of coffee in front of us.

I look to Edward as he peruses the menu, not feeling overly hungry for anything other than him—I have it bad, I know. How can I be anything but captivated by him? He's like a walking advertisement for sex in his leathers and black t-shirt, his jacket thrown on the chair beside him.

I watch as he runs a hand through his hair, then looks to the woman and graces her with a panty-wetting smile. He's oblivious to his charm, and I know he'd never intentionally flirt with her—I don't think he'd intentionally flirt with anyone in front of me—but I see how he affects her, how the slight blush on her cheeks flares.

When he's tired and angry at the world, all of this gets hidden, buried under his despair. People would rather avoid the angry man he can be—I know, I've been there.

But now, when he's like this… his pull is indescribable—he's magnetic.

And I've realized something. As much as his sleeping patterns have been a major piece of the puzzle that is Edward, they're not everything. He still sleeps like crap, even with me in his bed. I might wake him up and help him get to work on time, and I'm not a fool to think that hasn't helped, of course it has, but it's more than just that. Edward has purpose now.

"They have really great pie here, Jazz." He looks to the waitress for confirmation and she nods. "I think I'll have a piece of the cherry… and maybe one of the key lime too."

"Two pieces of pie, Ed?" I already know his penchant for sweet things, but it's fun to tease him anyway.

"Mom will feed us up when we get home, and we had a huge breakfast—"

"Love, you don't have to justify anything to me." I look to the waitress, noticing her wide-open eyes as she looks between us now, finally realizing our relationship. "I'll have two pieces of pie as well. Apple and peach, please." Edward is smiling and I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine. "Maybe we can share?"

"Perfect," he says, as the waitress scuttles away, her smile wide and her blush now very deep.

.

Edward throws his leg over his bike then pulls off his helmet, running his hand through his ever-present messy locks, yet again. Even watching Edward dismount from his bike doesn't lessen my nerves as we park our bikes on the white gravel drive of his parent's huge house.

I'm impressed—it's hard not to be. I've learned a lot about the couple I'm about to meet; Edward has been very forthcoming with lots of information about them. He loves his parents dearly and they share a very close relationship. It still amazes me that they've been so unaware of his sleeping habits, but doesn't surprise me; Edward has been very good at keeping many of the people in his life totally oblivious.

Turning, I remove my own helmet and secure my bag. My heart's still beating a little faster than usual; I'm not sure if it's because I just watched Edward get off his bike or because I'm nervous, but either way, I take a moment to breath in and try and calm down.

"I'll be okay, Jazz." I feel strong arms reach around my waist and hold me close. "They're harmless, baby."

"Easy for you to say," I mutter.

He kisses the back of my head, and I feel myself leaning back into his arms, just as a loud voice interrupts the moment. "Edward. Son. You've arrived."

Edward squeezes me tightly once more then lets go, turning and walking quickly to the tall, distinguished man who has just walked out the front door. He's a handsome man—an older version of Edward with blond hair. I can see the family resemblance to Carlisle now.

I stay where I am and watch as Edward is pulled into a strong fatherly embrace. It's obvious they are very close.

"It's good to see you, my boy. Your mother just had to take something from the oven but she'll be here in a moment. She's very excited—we don't see even close to enough of you."

"I know, Dad." Pulling away, Edward turns and holds out his hand to me. "Dad, there's someone I want you to meet." When I'm beside him he continues, "Dad, I'd like to introduce you to Jasper Whitlock. Jasper, my dad, Edward Cullen Senior."

"None of that senior crap, Edward," he says, eyeballing his son. "Jasper, it's a pleasure to meet you. Call me, Ed."

I hold my hand out and it's taken in a firm and respectful shake. "The pleasure is all mine, Sir." When he goes to correct me, I correct myself. "Ed." He smiles and I feel drawn into his enthusiasm.

I must admit it feels odd calling my lover's father the name I take such pleasure in calling him, but I'll do it. He steps between us, placing a firm hand on our backs and leads us to the house. "That's a nice machine you have there, Jasper, very nice… How was the ride up, boys?"

Edward is just about to answer his father's question when a whirlwind with auburn hair flies out the door and toward us.

"Edward!"

She has no sooner appeared in front of us than she's holding Edward tightly in her arms. Edward Sr. pats me on the back and beams at his wife and son.

I immediately feel welcomed, at ease, and incredibly impressed. I'm not impressed by Edward Sr.'s occupation, or by the size of their house. What impresses me is the love they have for their son—it's nothing less than he deserves.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. <em>

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	81. Chapter 81

_Monday, 7:20 am_

"Jazzy." Alice breezes into my office with her usual morning fervor, walking immediately to my desk and placing a pile of paperwork that is far too thick in front of me, then turns and makes her way to the coffee corner. I smile as I watch her, loving the simplicity of our 'routine'.

"Mornin', Ali."

She turns from what she's doing and observes me for a moment before she speaks. "You seem very happy this morning. I'm guessing that means you had a very nice weekend."

"A _very nice_ weekend actually." _One of the best._

"That's great, Jazz. I'm glad the thought of Esme returning today and finding out about you and Edward isn't stressing you."

I can't say it isn't stressing me, nor am I looking forward to that meeting when it happens—I'm dreading it really—but I'm trying hard to focus only on work, and I'm certainly glad to only have to worry about my team now—after all the meetings today are over, that is.

"I'm not going to let her bring me down, Ali. Besides, she already knows about Ed and me," Alice's brows shoot up. "More than I ever intended her to know as well," I can feel my cheeks heat, "but the fact is, she knows; she's even spoken to Ed."

"Jazz, I…"

"It's okay, hon. I'm okay. And Edward and I are _fucking_ fantastic, so all is good. Now enough about me, tell me about your weekend."

She does, in glorious detail, bringing huge smiles to my face and more than a couple of deep belly laughs. It seems she's found a kindred spirit in this new guy of hers and I can't wait to meet him. I even mention inviting him to my place for dinner next weekend—a double date of sorts. She thinks it's a great idea.

"Speaking of Edward, where is he? I'd have thought he'd be here with you—bright and early." Her grin tells me everything—of course she's hoping I'm 'the magical cure' for Ed. One day, when we have a lot more time and a lot more privacy, I'll explain that it doesn't quite work that way… unfortunately.

"He shouldn't be far away. I left him early this morning to go home to Sebs, and he needed to spend some more time with Jacob. He's catching the train, thought it would be best, allow me to get in here so I can deal with all of this." I sweep my hand over my desk and the big pile of 'all of this' that sits on it.

Alice laughs. "You two are going to have _so_ much fun when you finally introduce that dog to _your cat_."

"Are you saying Sebs might present a problem, Alice?" I tease.

"You bet your ass I am."

We're both laughing when there is a knock at the door.

Esme.

I'm not entirely surprised to see her standing there. I may have hoped to get a bit of a reprieve until after the slew of meetings we have ahead of us today, but really didn't think I would.

Alice stands quickly, says hello to Esme, and then picking up her cup, and mine, excuses herself, shutting the door behind her when she leaves.

"Esme," I say in greeting and stand, walking around my desk toward her. "Good to see you back."

"It's good to be back, Jasper."

I want to question that statement, she certainly sounded less than happy the other morning, but I hold my tongue.

"Carlisle didn't think it was a good idea for me to come down here."

"Why is that, Esme? If you're only here to discuss what happened 'businesswise' over the last two weeks, then it shouldn't be a problem."

I notice her eyes fall to the floor and her lips purse as she reins in whatever words were about to leave her mouth, but then she looks back to me—and smiles.

_Well, I'll be damned. _Is that actually sincerity that I see?

"I had a very interesting conversation with my aunt last night."

"Did you?"

"Yes. She called me. It seems Edward filled her in on our Saturday morning conversation."

I only nod.

"Aunt Elizabeth is somewhat taken with you, Jasper. She also thinks you're very good for Edward."

"I—"

She cuts me off. "I love my aunt very much, and I tend to think she's a rather good judge of character."

I'm a little offended by that comment. "I didn't realize my 'character' was in question, Esme?"

When she realizes what she said and how it sounded, she apologizes. "Oh, damn. I didn't mean it that way… I…"

"What did you mean, Esme?"

"He means the world to me, Jasper. He's more like my baby brother than my cousin. Hell, he's my best friend, and he's been in such a bad place for so long and… you guys didn't have the best relationship before and… It's just that I'm worried for him."

I don't move forward, but I stand a little taller. I'm more determined.

"Please don't doubt my motives when it comes to Edward, Esme. You don't have to worry about Edward being with me. Ever." I take a moment's pause and continue, "Believe me when I say that no one cares for Edward more than I do. No one."

Esme walks over to me, and in a move I could not have expected less, she pulls me into her arms, gripping tightly around my waist. She holds me for a while then pulls back and looks into my eyes; her own are glistening with emotion.

"He loves you, Jasper. Please be good to him."

She says no more, just turns and walks for the door.

If I'm honest, I couldn't have asked for a better outcome with her. If I expected screaming, it didn't come. All that she asked is that I be good to him. I've never had an easier request in my life.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. <em>

_So... That's the last regular chapter. There'll be an epilogue on Thursday. See you then._

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	82. Chapter 82

_Friday, 5:20 am – Eighteen months later..._

The thump, thump of an overweight cat jumping from my side table to my pillow, and landing far too close to my head for my liking, wakes me before the alarm has gone off. Opening an eye, I note the time.

_It's too early for this shit, Sebs!_

I growl at him—it makes no difference. He turns around and jumps back to the side table.

_Thump_.

I'm awake so I reach for the alarm and turn it off—there's no reason to be subjected to its shrill chime now. In the glow of the luminescent numbers I can see Sebs' amber eyes scrutinizing me. He knows he has me right where he wants me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that cat could read the time; he certainly wakes me close enough to the alarm most mornings.

_Why can't he sleep like the rest of us?_ I lament, then try—unsuccessfully—to roll over.

Edward is behind me, spooned into my back with his arm and a leg draped over me. But he isn't the problem. What's stopping me is the dead weight that is stretched on top of the covers at my front—a 'snoring' dead weight at that.

I let out a far-too-loud "hmmph" and try to wiggle him awake. "Jacob," I whisper. "Move."

Nothing.

"Jacob. Move." My words are slightly louder, but they work against me. Instead of waking him, which was the desired outcome, he rolls in toward me, cocooning me in even tighter.

Damn. I don't want to wake Edward. I know he was awake at about two last night—he could do with the sleep, even if he'll only get another half hour.

"Jacob_. _Move_," _I whisper-growl. "_Jacob. Move_."

Nothing.

_Gah!_

"Oh, for God's sake." I hear grumbled behind me at the same time as the covers get a swift flick. "Jakey, get off!"

I hear Jacob land on the floor. Fortunately he seems to have adopted a few of Sebs' traits in the fourteen months they've been sharing a house and, like a cat, lands on his paws. I'm sure Sebastian "reows," but I may have been imagining it—surely he didn't? But I do hear him jump from the side table and land on the carpet near Jacob, and then they both trot off.

"I wish you'd just get tougher on that dog," Edward mumbles into my ear, his words still laced with slumber.

"You're one to talk. Maybe if you weren't such a sucker for Sebastian, he wouldn't be so _fat_ and then he wouldn't wake me up so easily."

Sebs has put on a bit of weight since I've been with Edward. Sneaky nibbles of turkey and ham when they're in the kitchen together might have quickened the 'bonding' experience, but it certainly hasn't helped with Sebs' waistline.

"Lucky for you I didn't have to feed _you_ up to make you fall in love with me, baby."

I roll over now that I'm not restricted.

"I'd be thinking that's lucky for _you_. You wouldn't want to lose this," I take his hand and run it over my taut abs, "would you, love?"

"I'll love you when you're old and gray… and a little softer here," his hand caresses my stomach, before moving lower, "but I'm sure gonna enjoy it while you're… hard."

"Fuck yes," I growl when his hand locks around my erection.

_Friday, 8:20 pm_

This isn't our first Christmas party as a couple; we attended the party together last year, but this one is different—we're different.

No one bats an eyelash as we walk toward the Christmas tree holding hands. Esme has outdone herself, again. The room is spectacular and the tree is the best one yet.

Edward drops my hand as he pulls Esme in for a hug, allowing me to greet Carlisle.

Then we swap.

"Hi, Es," I say as I hug the woman who has become my dear friend, being careful not to press too hard against her very expanded tummy. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"Not too bad, although I've had enough, Jazz. I'm so ready to have this child."

"I know. Not long now though." The baby is due on Christmas Day and we're all anxious for her arrival—and incredibly excited.

I notice Esme start, her gaze falling—along with mine—to her bump. "Oh, she's moving, Jazz."

I watch the telltale distortion of her belly as the baby rolls, and reach out tentatively, my hand hovering.

"It's okay, Jazz. You can touch."

I do, holding my hand lightly over Esme's stomach and feeling what I think is a small foot against my palm.

"She loves you already." Edward moves in close behind me, placing his hand over mine. "Not that I blame her."

Without removing the joined hands that rest gently over our daughter, I look up and say to Esme and Carlisle, "Thank you," receiving two heartfelt smiles in return.

Esme joins her hand to ours. "It's my absolute pleasure."

_Friday, 10:40 pm_

The party is in full swing and I can't help but smile as my gaze scans the room. Our best friends are here—Rose is dancing with Emmett, Alice is sitting on her fiancé's knee, Carlisle and Esme are saying goodnight to the guests.

And we're standing in the doorway, under the mistletoe.

"I love you, Mr. Cullen-Whitlock."

"I love you, too, Mr. Cullen-Whitlock."

"You realize I'm required to kiss you while standing here."

"Really?"

"Don't be coy with me, Jasper. I know why you stopped."

"Well don't keep me waiting, love."

He doesn't.

He pulls me close, kissing me the way only my husband knows how, and I melt a bit into his perfect embrace.

I hear a slightly intoxicated voice say, "Is it wrong that I find myself a bit turned on after watching that?"

Mike!

By the time we look up he's walking away, shaking his head.

We both laugh.

Life will never be dull.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not sure what to say here. I've been writing these boys now for almost eleven months. In the world of fan fic, that in itself isn't a long time, but for me the experience has been rather life altering. Why? Because the process of getting these chapters out, first on a daily basis with Insomnia, and then three times a week with Early Bird, has meant that these two have never been far from my mind, and I've fallen a little bit in love with them if I'm honest. I'm not sure how I'm going to let them go, but all good things must come to an end. So here we are… at the end.<em>

__There are still a few bits of their story that I would like to expand on, and I'll do that via the odd outtake when the mood strikes, but I make no promises when that will be. I have other things I need to concentrate on, so that is where I plan on dedicating my focus.__

_Who should I thank? You. Everyone who has read this story, alerted, favorited, reviewed. I can't thank you enough for your support._

_Those readers who have been with me every step of the way, leaving review after review—some of you for EVERY chapter (you know who you are)—that kept me plodding on and trying to meet my self-imposed deadlines each day. To you my heart is full of love—truly._

_I know my drabble and short story format was at times frustrating, and I doubt I'll do that again—been there, done that—but I learnt a lot from the process. Some may think it "easy" to write such small chapters, but believe me it isn't. Learning to compress your words but still say what you need to say, is actually rather testing. Many times I was so tempted to "just post" that 1063 word chapter I had written, especially when the task of editing it back to 1000 proved so difficult, but I couldn't do it. It was my personal challenge, and I'm rather proud to have achieved it. Any outtakes will also be 1000… yeah, I know, a glutton for punishment. I'm sure you'll still enjoy them though. _

_And last but by no means least, to my dear friend, Suz. Even though you haven't been there in an "official" capacity as beta for the last chunk of this story, you have been there in so many other ways. Always willing to have a chat and get me focused, taking time from your busy days to pre-read something and tell me (or not) if it was okay, but mostly for being a never-ending support and loving my boys along with me. Thank you. Let 2012 be an astounding year for us, bb. _

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	83. Chapter 83

_In true "Insomnia" fashion, I am awake in the middle of the night. I haven't needed the comfort of these two until tonight. They were talking to me, so I decided to revisit my boys. Here are the fruits of that. It is the middle of the night, so if it sucks too bad, blame my lack of sleep._

* * *

><p><em>Early Bird - Outtake (Futuretake) 1 - <span>The Best New Year's Ever.<span>_

_._

_New Years Day - 12:45 am_

The feel of his chest pressed against my back feels so damned good. His arms are wrapped around my body… across my chest… my torso… they're everywhere. I just want him to hold me like this forever and never let me go.

We're on our bed—he's kneeling in the middle of it and I'm sitting back on his thighs, straddled over him. I love the feel of our calves rubbing together—every bit of me is on fire; I can even feel the coarse, yet somehow soft, hairs of his legs as they rub against mine. My toes are pushed into his ankles, gripping onto him, keeping him close to me.

"You like that, baby, don't you," he whispers in my ear. "You're such a slut for my cock." I am—I crave it. I can feel every glorious inch of him pressing up inside me. I can feel the gentle thrust of his hips as he rocks into me, filling me so deep at this angle I can almost feel it in my guts.

He begins to nibble on the back of my neck; I can't help it, I allow my head to drop back, exposing my throat even more. He continues… licking… sucking... His hands rub… pinch… caress… I can hear sounds coming from me—holy fuck, am I purring? It's just so good; it's always so good—every time better than the last.

His hands have moved to my hips and he begins to guide my body. "Move with me, baby. C'mon, Jazz, fuck yourself on my cock. Ride me, baby."

I do. I begin to rise and fall on my legs, allowing his strong hands to steady me. My hands are wrapped behind his head, my fingers pushed into his soft auburn locks. His cock pushes in deep when I sit flush to his body and then almost pulls out when I move away from him. I can feel every bit of his heavy prick sliding along my channel; the thick crown sends my nerve-endings into a symphony of feelings, and when its near my gland it slides over it, making my body twitch at the sensation.

And those sensations, they are rising, cresting; I don't think I can do this for much longer. It's too much; it's too good. My moves are beginning to get frantic and my body is screaming at me to let go.

"Edward…" I growl. "Gotta come, love. Can't hold off."

He doesn't say a word, but I feel his hand leave my hip and take a hold of my weeping cock, stroking it forcefully, pushing me to my completion.

"Let go, Jazz. Come for me, baby," he murmurs against my ear. "I wanna feel you shoot all over my hand. I wanna feel you clench all around my cock— Oh, fuck, you feel so good, so tight…" I can hear the stagger in his speech now; he is close too.

I allow the sensations to overwhelm me, letting my orgasm explode from my body. His hand stills but his grip remains firm, his thumb grazing over my now-sensitive head, wiping at the spunk still dribbling from me.

"Jassspppeerrr…" he growls and I feel him still deep inside me. His heat fills me as he comes, coating every part of my body, marking me, claiming me as his—only ever his. No one else has ever had the right.

We slump together, unmoving, boneless. Our breaths staggered as we come down from our high. It's minutes later that we finally fall to our sides on the bed, pushing back the top sheet that scored the worst of the mess and pulling up the comforter over our still incredibly relaxed bodies.

"Happy New Year, baby." He's always called me baby—almost from the start—and I'll never tire of hearing the word leave his lips. It's always said with more love than I ever believed I deserved. Leaning in, his lips meet mine and his hand pushes a few stray curls off my face.

"I love you, Edward." In the dim light his eyes shine as he looks at me. "May this year be the best one yet."

His crooked grin, full of the love and happiness we share, warms my soul. "It will be, Jazz." Again he kisses me. "Now to sleep with you. We need to make the most of it while we still can."

"Yeah, we do. Make sure you heed your own advice." He yawns—I think it was real.

_New Years Day - 4:05 am_

I can hear a phone ringing. Hang on, I can hear two phones ringing. What the fuck's going on?

Edward's in a deep sleep—his snores testify to that—and he hasn't even stirred. I can see my cell glowing on the table and reach over, picking it up. I don't even look at who's calling, my eyes wouldn't be able to focus anyway. As soon as I say hello, Edward's cell stops its caterwauling.

"Hmmm," I grunt.

"Jazz, it's Carlisle. You need to get down to the hospital."

I'm instantly awake.

"Now?"

"Yeah. Now. And hurry!"

I'm not sure who hangs up first, but I throw my phone down and begin to shake Edward.

"Love. Wake up. It's the baby. She's coming…" The panic begins to rise as everything starts to sink in. "_Edward!_ Get the fuck up _now!"_

His green eyes open wide. "Now?"

I nod. "Now!"

_New Years Day - 5:31 am_

I hear a baby's cry and look to my husband. He wears the same scared-shocked-amazed expression I'm sure I do.

"She's here."

All I can do is smile and pull him tightly into my body.

"She's here," he repeats.

"Yeah, love. She's here." I lean back and fuse my lips to his. There's no tongue, it's just a happy, amazed kiss full of love. "She's really here."

I look back to the nursery door.

_Welcome to the world, Mia Cullen-Whitlock._

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed it.<em>

__Till next time.__

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	84. Outtake 2  A Gift to Give

_Recap: In Chapter 82 we find out that Esme is pregnant and that the baby is Jasper and Edward's (who are married). In the first outtake (Ch 83), Esme has the baby and the boys go to the hospital for the birth._

_This chapter details how that came about._

_Enjoy!_

_._

_Early Bird - Outtake 2 - A Gift to Give._

_._

_Esme_

I reach for the half-finished bottle of red wine we'd opened with last night's dinner, then quickly pull my hand away. There'll be no more of that for a while.

Instead, I make my way to the sofa and sit down to wait. Carlisle should be home soon.

I'm not sure how long I sit there before I hear his key in the front door, my head automatically turns to watch him come through.

"Hi, beautiful. What are you doing sitting there in the dark?" I hadn't even realized it was. When I don't answer him, he presses, "Esme? Is everything okay?"

I look at him, appreciating the man I love more than anything in the world, wanting never to hurt him and so afraid I'm about to. I can see the growing concern on his face in the glow of the recently turned on lamp. I want to speak, reassure him, but my mouth is dry—the words I need to say elude me.

We've discussed this before, but it has never been a reality until now. It has never been my reality, or his, until _now_. I'm not sure if he's always gone along with me, placated me, in the hope I will change my mind as I got older. Is that what he's done? Held out some optimism that I will suddenly change my mind. Please God, I hope not.

"Sweetheart, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

The kindest man—the _best_ man—in the world is looking at me with what I can only describe as fear in his eyes. I can only hope that my admission, as well as my declaration, doesn't destroy him.

"I'm pregnant."

.

_Two weeks later…_

It's been hard. Really hard. We've done a lot of soul-searching since that day.

Always my biggest advocate, Carlisle has been my rock, and I've tried my best to be his through this. But my rock is crumbling, slowly shattering into little pieces, and it breaks my heart to watch it happen. Some might think me the most selfish of the selfish. He tells me he'll accept my decision, whatever it is. He says yes, he'd love to be a father, but he always knew my views, and to him, I am the most important person in his life; I am the one that he needs, that he _cannot_ live without. He tells me his life is rich and full and that it will always be that way—as long as I am with him, as long as I am happy.

I hate myself.

I am a heartless, cruel bitch.

I don't deserve him or this child growing inside me.

My intercom pings and Tanya's voice sounds through. "Carlisle has Jasper and Edward in his office. They're waiting for you."

.

I'm waiting for Carlisle to come to my office so we can go home.

What an enlightening afternoon. For the fist time in weeks I feel a sense of hope.

Watching Edward now never fails to amaze me. He is so happy, every part of him screams happiness, and it is all because of one man—Jasper Whitlock.

I remember back to Paris, last year, the first weekend we were there, and Carlisle laughing at me after yet another rant from me aimed at the man I believed was making Edward's life a misery.

He shook his head. "You've got it all wrong."

"No, I haven't. If he upsets Edward while we're away I'll—"

He muttered under his breath, interrupting me. "Yeah, he'll make him scream, I'm sure."

"_What?_"

Carlisle took my hand. "Es, you are the most intuitive person I know, but you are being really dumb about this."

"I— He—" I looked at him, confused. "What are you saying, Carlisle."

"If I were a betting man…" He looked at his watch. "It's Saturday night back home right now. My bet would be Edward is not alone."

I shrugged. "He's a hot guy. I doubt he's alone."

Again he grinned and shook his head. "I doubt Mr. Whitlock is alone either."

I couldn't deny Jasper was rather attractive, so this didn't surprise me. "So."

"Esme!"

"What?"

He just stared at me.

For the whole two weeks he tried to convince me there was something going on with them—I disagreed vehemently. There was no way!

And then we returned. Of course, I _needed_ to go to the office. Couldn't resist. I laugh out loud—now. I was mortified, utterly horrified. And all Carlisle could say when we got into the elevator was, "Told you so."

I'm sure I huffed.

I rub a hand over my growing stomach as Carlisle walks through the door. I'm two months pregnant. I've been worried about my decision as the weeks passed, knowing my window was narrow, but now it doesn't matter. I hope he agrees.

.

"It was an amazing meal, Esme. Thanks." Jasper smiles at me, just as I see him reach for Edward's hand under the table.

"It was, Es. We should do it more often." Edward leans and kisses Jasper's cheek affectionately, then looks back at me. "I do love your cooking."

I hope we'll see a lot more of the two— no, three of them, in the future.

I look at Carlisle, he smiles and nods, then takes my hand in his, squeezing it gently. It's time.

The emotions running through me right now are stronger than anything I can remember ever feeling. What if they say no? What if they don't want to be fathers? It's one thing for Edward to have joked over the years about being one, one day, but this is real. So very real.

"Edward… Jasper…"

My words falter. God this is hard. I take a deep breath and Carlisle squeezes my hand again. He is the best man in the world—I'm blessed.

"Guys, I'm pregnant."

Their faces light up with happiness for me, but they don't understand. I need to correct them—now.

"Ed, Jazz, please listen."

.

Thanks for reading.

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	85. Early Bird  Outtake 3  A Gift to Give:

_I didn't expect to be writing another outtake chapter so quickly, and certainly not one to add to the last, but some of you asked for more, and some of you questioned how Esme could possibly do this—and how Carlisle could possibly be okay with it. Then, there were readers who had assumed from the epilogue and the first outtake that Esme was a surrogate with Jasper's baby._

_To be honest, when I wrote the epi and the first outtake that was the scenario in my mind, but no, there was never confirmation of that fact. Never did it say that Esme was a surrogate; it only said she was pregnant and that Jazz and Ed would be fathers to the baby—who we learnt was Mia._

_Why did I change my mind? I have no answer for that. It was purely the inspiration that struck at the time. Had I not had some crazy-arsed idea pop into my head that Esme fell pregnant and didn't want to be a mother, then there would have been NO chapter at all. I didn't set out to write an Early Bird outtake for the sake of writing an outtake. To me this story is done and dusted, but as I've said, if I get inspired—and for whatever reason these two DO inspire me—then I'll revisit them. I do love fan fiction for that. And that's the joy of writing: you can take arcs wherever your imagination takes you._

_The plus here: those who are still reading get another chapter with a bit more information._

_Don't expect a chapter from Carlisle. It would be hard for him, I have no doubt, but people make decisions for various reasons every day. People make decisions that they can live with because something else is more important to them. We already know that the relationship between the four adults is on wonderful terms when the baby is born. I have no doubt Ed and Jazz will do everything in their power to keep it that way. In the 'real' world a scenario like this could lead to any number of horrible outcomes; it could also be totally fine—I'm leaning that way._

_(Yeah, yeah, I'm wordy - what's new.)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Early Bird - Outtake 3 - A Gift to Give: Part 2<em>**

_._

_Edward_

I never tire of the man next to me holding my hand, being so close that he pulls me into his orbit every time he's near me. I can't resist, so I lean over and kiss him chastely on the cheek, silently promising him so many things for later when we're alone.

I'm pulled from my euphoric state by Esme's next words.

"Guys, I'm pregnant."

_She's what! _A baby? That's fantastic—I think.

I feel Jazz's excitement in the way he grips my hand tighter, and it draws me along on the wave. Of course, he's excited. That's what you're supposed to feel when someone makes an announcement like this—unless you know better.

I'm processing what it all means when she continues.

"Ed, Jazz, please listen." She looks again to Carlisle, and the expression on his face…

Now that I think about it, she's been jumpy all night. This isn't a normal pregnancy announcement, because unless there has been a dramatic turn-around, Esme _does not—has never—_wanted to be a mother.

Jazz doesn't understand what's going on here, because he begins, "Esme, that's fan—"

Carlisle quickly stops him. "Guys"—I hear the pain, _and_ the resignation—"please listen to what Esme has to say."

The tension is thick, hovering like a blanket over the table and between us.

"This—" She stops as quickly as she starts, picking up her water and taking a mouthful, then lets a out a huge exhale. "This," she starts again, "is both the hardest and the easiest thing I have ever asked." _Asked? _She looks directly at me now. "I've never wanted to be a mother. Ed, you know that. Carlisle"—she looks to him, and he draws her hand to his lips, kissing it softly—"has always known that. For whatever reason he has accepted that in me. I can't explain, I can't give reasons; it's just who I am."

I look to Jazz; his face is a blank mask, and even I am struggling to read him.

"Two weeks ago, when I realized I was pregnant, I also realized I had three choices. I'd hoped that it would be easy, that it wouldn't even be a choice. I hoped that I would fall madly in love with this child and _need_ it to be mine." Her eyes are glistening with tears, and I realize this is but one lot of many she has cried in recent days. Again she looks to Carlisle. "I am _so_ sorry."

He mouths, "I love you."

She steadies herself: another sip of water and continues. "Motherhood isn't on the cards for me, Ed, Jazz, but my second option"—her eyes close and her head sways from side-to-side—"is not something I could ever do either. I could never end this life." She rubs her stomach. "Which leaves one thing. Putting this baby up for adoption once he, or she, is born."

Okay. That makes sense.

Jasper speaks again. "Esme, Carlisle… I…" He pauses—searching. "Someone will love and cherish your baby, and be grateful every day for your generosity."

He means every word of that. I know how much he wants to be a father, how much he wants "us" to be fathers one day, and how he hopes it won't be a difficult road to travel.

"Jasper, I believe there is a couple out there who will love this baby, who will cherish it and where it came from." Her eyes flit between us, settling on me, and I immediately know where she is heading with this. "Ed, you are my cousin, my _brother_, my _best friend_. I love you so much." She reaches across the table to take my hand. "I have never seen you like you are now… like how you are with Jasper." She looks to him and smiles. "You guys are perfect together," she tells him. "I thank you every day for being in his life."

We are. I too look to the love of my life, confirming my feelings as soon as I see his handsome face. I want this and I hope he will want this as well, but it won't be easy—or maybe it will be easier because of Esme and Carlisle's existence in our life. When he glances from her to me, his eyes shine with his love, but he is still confused.

"Jazz, Ed has always wanted to be a father." His name draws his attention back to her, but his grip is still tight on my hand, and I keep my eyes locked on him. "If that is something you want as well… If that is something you are ready for. Then we would like for you and Edward to adopt this baby, to raise him, or her, as your own."

For once Jazz is lost for words. His grip has loosened on my hand. His eyes flick between Esme and Carlisle. Questioning… confirming… Then he looks to me.

Our eyes are locked, his expression boring into mine, when Carlisle speaks, "Please don't say yes or no now," he doesn't look away. "Go home, talk, think, plan. Make a decision not because you feel pressured to do so, but because you're ready to do so. Just know this. If you say no, that's okay," we both look to them now. Esme's eyes are still glistening and so are Carlisle's, "this baby will be loved, we will make sure of it. But we both know you would be sensational fathers, who would love this child more than anyone else could. And it would be _your_ child in every way. We would never overstep our bounds; that is our promise to you. We'll just be there loving our niece or nephew, maybe even spoiling them a bit, and being happy if you are happy. That's all we want."

Esme and I just stare at each other, a silent acceptance passing between us that gives me a real sense of hope for our future.

.

Thanks for reading.

_Disclaimer: My only claim is to this plot._


	86. Chap 86 - Early Bird Christmas Outtake

_It's been a long long time, well over a year in fact, and I'm not sure where this came from, or why, but inspiration found me—maybe as some latent attempt to get me into the Christmas spirit this year, who knows?—anyway, for anyone out there and still reading, here it is. Enjoy!_

_I own nothing but the ideas in this piece of writing. All characters proudly borrowed from SM for the purpose of fan fiction, and here they will stay. No copyright infringement intended. No other eyes have looked this over. All mistakes my own._

* * *

><p><em>December 25<em>

Jasper opened his eyes, blinking at the bright, early-morning light shining in through the room's large floor-to-ceiling windows, light that seemed brighter than usual, even if all he could see from their second-story bedroom was an as-always-gray sky. Could it have possibly snowed? Snow for Christmas, how wonderful that would be.

He was awake first, as happened most days, but he didn't mind; in fact, he craved it. He loved this time alone with his thoughts. Quiet time when he could reflect on how lucky he was to have this man in his bed, in his life—he was truly blessed. It was one of his most treasured times of the day—especially at this time of the year. He had so much to be thankful for.

The heat of Edward's body was behind him, right at his back, so close it was almost consuming. One of Edward's arms draped loosely over his waist and a leg hooked possessively around his own. He felt like he was on fire, the heat almost too much, but there was no way in hell he was moving away—he wouldn't disturb him, didn't want to. And when he noticed the gentle snore that fluttered the hair by his ear, reminding him that Edward was truly sleeping, it brought a smile to his face.

Edward had struggled again last night to sleep. Every restless turn and exasperated sigh had kept Jasper from falling asleep for a long while too, even though he'd done his best to keep it from Edward, until exhaustion finally pulled him under. They'd tried, as they did most nights, to wear him out. Jasper warmed even more at the memory of them making love, or maybe he'd be better to term it fucking, it sure had been hard and intense, but even that hadn't been enough to allow Edward an easier journey into slumber. Jasper could only guess how long it had taken in the end, so he would put up with heat, and he'd do it without complaint, if it would allow Edward even five minutes of extra rest.

They lay there for a while longer, Jasper falling back into a half doze himself, for how long, he didn't know . . . and then Edward moved. The arm that had been so relaxed over Jasper's waist didn't drape anymore; instead, it now pulled him in and held him tight. Jasper realized Edward's snoring had stopped as well. _I haven't moved_, he told himself. _I know I haven't_. Edward's hips flexed, and Jasper felt the push of a half-hard morning erection against the cleft of his ass . . . and then he felt the flex again. Jasper knew Edward may well still be asleep, in that half-consciousness that most people woke up to when there was no outside force to help them a long, but he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the subtle come on. Edward may not realize right this second what he was doing, but he would very soon. Jasper's body began to react.

Edward's arm relaxed again, and Jasper felt an almost painful disappointment that Edward was falling back to sleep. He as quickly scolded himself for being selfish—it wasn't as if he'd didn't get sex, amazing damned sex, most days. But then he felt the hand move and skim over his chest, felt determined fingers pinch his nipple, and a voice growl in his ear, "Want you," and Jasper was uncomfortably hard in an instant, his body reacting by pushing back determinedly against Edward. Edward chuckled, the sound oddly arousing.

Jasper quickly rolled over. The sight of those green eyes and bed-tousled, auburn hair still amazed and enthralled him. He couldn't get enough. Fortunately, neither could Edward.

Jasper's eyes fell to Edward's mouth, his pouty lips soft and relaxed, his wet, pink tongue teasing as it licked across his bottom lip. Jasper knew if he looked into Edward's eyes they would shine with mirth—Edward knew exactly what he did to his husband. The tease was too much for Jasper. He reached out and pushed his fingers into the hair at Edward's nape then linked his own leg over Edward's thigh, pulling him close and leaving no space between them once he had joined their lips.

The kiss wasn't subdued, but it wasn't frantic; it was perfect for now—hot and wet and just plain ungh . . . It was a reflection of them, of their relationship, and how good they were together. Edward's tongue swept into Jasper's mouth, and Jasper's hand gripped tight on the slightly-longer-than-he-usually-wore-it strands of Edward's soft hair. Jasper thought, for not the first time, that he liked it like that . . . but then he wasn't thinking of the length of Edward's hair anymore. He couldn't, not when Edward reached down and gripped their erections in a viselike grip.

Edward pulled away from the kiss, and Jasper groaned. "What you do to me, Jazz," Edward muttered as he started to move in the bed, crawling up to hover over Jasper and kissing him quickly on the lips before shuffling back under the covers, his sexy hair disappearing far too quickly from sight for Jasper's liking, but it was too cold to throw back the covers, even if that's exactly what he wanted to do.

_What you do to _me_!_ Jasper thought as Edward trailed his tongue down Jasper's abdomen, swirling and licking in maddening patterns that had Jasper arching his back in pleasure. "Hell yeah!" he exclaimed when Edward's breath ghosted over the sensitive underside of his cock, teasing him. Knowing just what was coming, but not fast enough for his liking, Jasper ordered, "Suck me. Make me come."

"With pleasure." The words were garbled now that Edward had disappeared from sight, and no more were forthcoming. As soon as Edward released his grip slightly, moving his hand to the base of Jasper's shaft, a hot, wet mouth began to lick and suck him. The combination of determined licks and pulls on his highly sensitive flesh, coupled with Edward opening his throat and sucking him down deep, over and over, had Jasper spurting far too quickly. Jasper felt like he came and came as Edward contracted his throat around the head of Jasper's cock as he swallowed, finishing him off perfectly.

"Fuck, you're good at that." Jasper could hardly move, let alone talk, as Edward emerged, but he managed to praise Edward anyway, eliciting a cocky grin. "Give me a minute and then you're mine," he added.

"A minute's all you get, or I'll do it myself." Edward's face was flushed and his eyes were wide and filled with need.

"Greedy prick."

"It is, baby, incredibly greedy, see." Edward kneeled up in front of Jasper. His cock hard, the engorged flesh jutting eagerly from his body as he stroked it and stared lustfully at Jasper, pre-come glinting in the morning light and making Jasper forget he had to recuperate for a moment.

"No time like the present. Shuffle up here and fuck my mouth," he told Edward, who got into position over him quickly. "That's it, love."

Those were the last words Jasper spoke as Edward pushed into his mouth, flexing his hips back and forth and gripping Jasper's hair, urging Jasper's head to move as well. Edward looked down on him. Their eyes held as Edward thrust into him; a look of complete awe evident on Edward's face. "Fucking love you," he growled. "That's it, take my cock." Jasper loved the gravel in Edward's voice, felt it all the way to his groin. Loved the taste, loved the feel. Loved every-_fucking_-thing about the man dominating him from above.

And then she woke up . . .

But Edward didn't stop; he kept thrusting even as the mix of sleepy cries and happy gurgles continued. And Edward wouldn't stop, not until he'd come, and Jasper loved him for it and tried not to think of their daughter. Mia could wait for a few minutes—she'd be just fine.

When Edward's lids closed over his beautiful, green eyes, Jasper knew he was close. And when he finally came hard, his hips stilling and stuttering as he pushed deep, and Jasper swallowed around him, he'd never loved his husband more.

Edward fell down onto his back, panting roughly. "_You_ really are the best at that."

"Well you better not put it to the test," Jasper teased, rolling to sit up on the side of the bed as he licked his lips, cleaning them of the evidence of their lovemaking. He stood up, pulling on his robe. "Should I bring her back in here?"

"_Of course_! And hurry." He rolled to his side and pulled the duvet over his body, a stupid look of contentment on his face. "Oh, by the way."

"Mmm?" Jasper said as he turned to leave the room.

"Merry Christmas, baby. I really do love you."

And he did. Jasper would never doubt it. He blew a kiss over his shoulder as he walked out of the room to get their daughter and continue their Christmas day as the happiest, and most blessed, family on earth.

* * *

><p><em>It was pure fluffity-McFluff, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.<em>

_Happy Holidays!_

_S._


End file.
